


Prejudice

by RedQ



Series: Prejudice [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen can be a hero without his powers, Bittersweet Ending, Death, Discrimination against metahumans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gets very dark, Graphic Violence, Hurt Barry, Hurt/Comfort, Major Barry Whump, Metas as Second Class Citizens, Modern Day Genocide, Revolution, Sensitive Topics/Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 37
Words: 159,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7968592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedQ/pseuds/RedQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry could hear them knocking on the walls, searching every inch of the house. It was clear to him then. He wasn't the first metahuman who had tried to hide. They were going to find him. </p>
<p>WARNING: This story contains sensitive topics and graphic violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feeding the Flames

[ ](https://imgflip.com/gif/22lw09)

* * *

**This is an ugly story. It contains violence, murder, genocide, dehumanization, and some of the most rotten examples of humanity. The sad part of it is that it’s based on real life events. It’s not meant to make light of those events or downplay them. It’s not meant to simply exploit them for others’ entertainment.**

**This story is meant to _show_ people something, to give them a _small glimpse_ of what countless people throughout history have suffered through and what many still suffer through today. **

**It’s an ugly, yet beautiful story, and if you can stomach reading it, I hope you’ll get something more out of it than a simple fanfiction to occupy your day.**

**Note: Takes place in season 2. The breaches are closed, and Zoom is trapped on his own earth. He will not be appearing in this story.**

* * *

**Feeding the Flames**

* * *

Barry sometimes really wished he could be one of those people who never watched the news. Sometimes he wondered if it would be better to just be blissfully unaware and ignorant. It seemed like there was never anything positive on the news—only negative after negative, and this was especially true lately.

There had been yet another metahuman attack, one the Flash hadn’t been able to stop. A metahuman—one with the ability to control water—had lost it and attacked a local grocer. He seemed angry, like there wasn’t any one particular thing he wanted. He just wanted to make a scene—to contribute to the mayhem plaguing the streets lately. Barry always thought the Reverse Flash and Zoom were his biggest troubles, but it was really this—this rising tension. It wasn’t any one speedster or metahuman. It was _all_ of them, as a whole. It was society. The more people hated metahumans, the more they wanted to act out. It was a vicious cycle, and both sides were only feeding the flames with their hate.

Barry had gotten there quickly to stop the metahuman, but not only could the guy control water, he could also control the water _inside_ other people’s bodies. He could bend people to his will and move them around like marionettes. Barry hadn’t been able to defend against _that_ and had soon found himself being slammed repeatedly into a wall, completely out of control of his own body.

He had tried to track the metahuman down, but it turned out the guy also had the ability to turn _into_ water, and he disappeared down the first drain he saw, which was actually kind of gross.

Barry was frustrated as he watched the news report covering the incident. The reporters were discussing the Flash’s failure, contemplating his ability to protect this city from metahumans. It was quite the debate, to say the least. They had been discussing for the last hour. The newscast soon went to a reporter who was out on the streets, interviewing random civilians about their opinions of the Flash. Barry’s stomach churned when he listened to the interviews.

“We can’t count on the Flash anymore,” one woman said into the reporter’s microphone, “I love him, and I know he does the best he can, but something else has to be done about all these metahumans. We can’t rely solely on the Flash to protect us from them, and some action needs to be taken to stop them from destroying our city. The Flash just isn’t going to be enough to keep us safe.”

Barry felt even worse when another man spoke into the camera.

“I don’t trust the Flash at all,” he said firmly, “I think it’s only a matter of time until he turns on us, too. He’s the only meta so far who’s tried to do good with his powers. The rest of them have all lost it and only used their powers for bad. Who’s to say the Flash won’t cross over to the dark side, too? Maybe their warped DNA makes them all go evil eventually. Who knows?”

Barry was glad to see not everyone felt this way. A few people who were interviewed stuck up for the Flash, saying they still believed in him whole-heartedly and that the city should continue to support its one and only hero. Barry still felt uneasy, though. It seemed like more and more people were losing hope in the Flash every day. For all his triumphs, it only took the occasional failure or slip up for them to criticize him and stop believing in him.

And it was frustrating.

The tension revolving around the metahuman crisis was building. People were calling for more action to be taken. Metahumans were being almost exclusively regarded as evil and untrustworthy, which wasn’t helping the issue at all. One man, Clinton Price, had been speaking out very publicly about how he felt about metahumans.

“They’re all evil—every last one of them,” he said angrily into the camera, “They can’t be trusted. Their powers corrupt them and turn them all dark eventually. We can’t stand idly by while they destroy our city, and we can’t put the task of stopping them into the hands of the Flash, who is really just another meta who will inevitably betray us in the end. When it comes down to it, the Flash is going to choose his own side eventually. He’s going to side with the non-humans.”

Price’s campaign against metahumans was starting to pick up and grow in support, and tension between humans and metahumans was building at an alarming rate. Barry knew it was anti-meta behavior like this that was pushing metahumans to act out more. The water-controlling metahuman in the grocer didn’t even seem to have any particular goal in mind. He just seemed angry, like he was acting out just to make a statement. Really, his “statement” wasn’t helping the situation, though; it was only making metahumans look worse in the public’s eyes. Just like with any political issue, the more propaganda and hate being issued, the more both sides fed the flames. The problem only festered like cancer until everyone was blind to the truth.

There was no innocent. There was no guilty. Both sides wrong, and both sides were right. Barry just wished he could them to see that. He understood the people’s fear, and he understood the metahumans’ anger.

Barry was getting a little angry, himself. Well, maybe “angry” wasn’t the right word for it. “Frustrated” was more like it. It felt like despite all the good he did, people still didn’t believe in the Flash, and the violence in the city seemed only to be getting worse as tensions rose. He didn’t know what more he could do about it. He was the Flash. It was his responsibility to stop things from getting even worse than they were. It felt like he was alone, though. He had his team, of course, but they could only do so much. He was the one who needed to step up here.

But he didn’t know how.

“Barry, why are you watching this?” Iris asked angrily when she walked into the living room.

She promptly turned the TV off.

“That Clinton Price man is an idiot,” she huffed, “I don’t know why anyone bothers to listen to him.”

“He’s running for mayor,” Barry said quietly, “And his anti-metahuman campaign has been getting a lot more media attention now.”

“That lunatic is running for mayor?!” Iris asked incredulously, “How did _that_ happen?”

“People listen to what he has to say,” Barry said somberly, “It seems like more and more people are agreeing with him now.”

“The man is pure evil!” she said angrily, “The way he talks about metahumans, like they should all be rounded up and treated like they’re not even human, like they don’t even have rights.”

Barry nodded, but he had a sullen look on his face.

“I don’t see how I’m much better,” he sighed, “Didn’t I do the same thing? Last year, didn’t I lock up metahumans without trial, as if they didn’t have rights?”

“Barry, that was different,” Iris insisted, “You didn’t have a choice then. Half of them were _murderers_ , and Irons Heights wasn’t capable of holding them, yet.”

“Well, I’m glad it is now,” Barry said, “It’s one thing for the Flash to stop criminals, but it’s another thing entirely to play judge and jury. At least this way we’re working with the law now.”

“Yeah, well if they go ahead with this Metahuman Registration Act, I don’t know if I fully believe in the law anymore,” Iris gritted, “Why the hell is Singh not putting his foot down, anyways?”

“That’s out of Singh’s hands if that happens,” Barry said quickly, “We can’t blame him. If that law goes through, it will be because of this Clinton Price guy, not anyone at the CCPD who’s just following orders. The CCPD enforces the laws. They don’t write them.”

“Still,” Iris said bitterly, “I can’t believe anyone is seriously going along with this.”

Barry fully agreed with her. The entire thing seemed so ludicrous. When Clinton Price had first proposed the idea of registering all known metahumans into a compiled list, thus forcing them to out themselves to the public, Barry had thought the insane idea would be dismissed quickly. He was shocked that now, only a few months later, not only was it being taken seriously, but it was a likely possibility that it was really going to happen.

The flames were growing, and Barry feared that soon, he wouldn’t be able to contain it. It was out of his control.

* * *

Everyone was quiet the next day when Barry walked into STAR Labs—walked, not ran, because he was completely exhausted. Barry had been working extra hard as the Flash because of everything that was going on. He wanted to restore the city’s faith in him as their hero, not really fully understanding what he had done to lose it in the first place. So he didn’t always manage to catch the bad guy; that didn’t mean that he was _becoming_ one.

Human citizens were starting to lose faith in him, and metahuman citizens saw him as their enemy because he kept apprehending them. Barry was starting to feel hated by both sides. Even at STAR Labs, he felt lonely now. With Cisco gone, Barry was the only metahuman there. Barry had insisted Cisco leave town, just in case the act went through and things took a turn for the worse. It took a lot of arguing, but eventually Cisco agreed to leave and lay low at his parents’ house just outside the city for a while until the whole thing blew over.

They all were trying to get Barry to leave, too—Oliver had even offered him a place to stay in Star City for a while—but Barry had refused. He felt that, as the Flash, it was his duty to act as the bridge between humans and metahumans. He felt like it was his responsibility to try to keep the peace. The Flash was the only metahuman who was out in the public eye—aside from Mark Mardon, who had only displayed the negative aspects of metahumans. The Flash was the only public face to represent metahumans in a positive light. Maybe if he could convince everyone that there was one good metahuman, then they would believe there were others out there like him—others who didn’t abuse their powers but instead used them to do good on a day to day basis.

 He also wanted to stay and do his part as Barry Allen at the CCPD. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but he thought maybe with his position in law enforcement he would be able to do something or at least try to keep things from getting too out of hand.

Everyone at STAR Labs was extremely supportive of him, telling him not to listen to what they were saying in the media and that the Flash had always been only a force for good. Barry appreciated their support, but it wasn’t much consolation to him. They were trying, and he knew that, but Barry felt like they didn’t fully understand the position he was in. He felt like he was being forced to choose between the two sides: humans and metahumans. His friends and family just didn’t get that.

They were all human, and he wasn’t. He felt like they forgot this about him sometimes. When he was fighting metahumans all the time, it was easy for them to forget that _he,_ himself, was also a metahuman. He wished Cisco was still here. He would understand.

“Barry,” Caitlin’s voice ran through his com system, “There’s a metahuman attack on fifth and Broadway.”

“On my way,” Barry said immediately before flashing to the scene.

It was pandemonium. Barry got there just in time to snatch the airborne bullets out of their paths, all of them directed towards one individual: the metahuman. When he came to a stop, the man shouted out at the cops.

“Please stop!” he sobbed, “It was an accident! Please!”

Barry put himself between the five cops and the metahuman.

“I’ve got this!” he called to the officers, before turning back to the metahuman.

He really hoped the police would trust him. He never knew now days how they were going to respond to his interference. At least for now, they didn’t seem to object. They all stood back and let the Flash take over.

The entire street was torn apart, large cracks taking up a good portion of the pavement, all leading back to the metahuman. He was visibly shaking in fear, and Barry could see new cracks starting to form at his feet. It seemed that the more upset the man got, the less control he had over his powers.

“Flash,” the man cried, his eyes widening in fear as he looked at Barry.

Another wide crack appeared in the street, inching dangerously close to a nearby building. If it had reached the building, it was likely that the instability of its base would have brought the whole thing down.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Barry said sincerely, taking a careful step forward, but it was too much for the distraught man.

Suddenly, several large cracks burst violently through the pavement, one of them going right to where Barry was standing. The shifting beneath his feet was just enough to destabilize him so that he was distracted for a moment as he tried to regain his bearings.

In that moment, everything went wrong.

Each of the cops all fired at once, their bullets propelling through the air at just barely subsonic speeds. Barry scrambled to catch all of them, but as he was catching one, he felt another rip through his shoulder. Barry instantly could feel blood gushing from the wound, and he gritted his teeth through the pain while he ran. He managed to catch two more bullets, but as he was going for the last one, black spots appeared in front of his vision, and he found himself stumbling forward, snatching blindly for the stray bullet.

His hand grasped at empty air, and he only had less than a second to feel horrified before the ground came up to meet him.


	2. Obstruction of Justice

* * *

**Obstruction of Justice**

* * *

Barry woke slowly to a terrible pain in his shoulder. The pain worsened when he felt his arm being twisted. His hands were both being roughly pulled behind his back. Barry’s eyes fluttered open as he felt cold metal being closed around his wrists. The pain exploded in his shoulder when someone pressed a knee into Barry’s back to keep him pinned to the ground.

“Flash, you’re under arrest for obstruction of justice,” one of the officers said to him.

Just as he was starting to return to his senses, Barry saw a hand reaching for his mask to remove it. He jerked away on reflex, and the shift caused a new wave of pain to blossom in his shoulder. Barry gritted his teeth to stop himself from yelling out. Blood was pooling underneath him on the ground, and Barry knew that if he didn’t get out of this soon, he would become too dizzy to run.

“ _Barry?”_ he heard Caitlin say through his com system, “ _Barry, answer me! What’s going on?”_

Barry didn’t answer her but instead focused on getting away. Using all the strength and energy he could pull forth, Barry started to vibrate under the person who was holding him down. It took all of his strength for him to finally vibrate himself free from the man’s grasp. The officers all pulled out their guns to open fire on him, but it was too late. The Flash was already gone.

Barry struggled to take in air as he ran, gritting his teeth against the horrible pain in his shoulder. What felt worse than the pain was the fact that he had almost just been arrested. The _Flash_ had almost just been arrested, all because he had tried to help with a metahuman case. He had no idea what had happened to the metahuman. He had been too focused on his own escape after he had been shot. Now, all he could focus on was getting back to STAR Labs before he collapsed.

It seemed to take forever before he made it back to the cortex. When he flashed in, he stopped and braced himself on the desk. Caitlin immediately shot out of her chair when she saw all the blood pouring from his shoulder.

“Oh my God,” she said, moving closer to him, “Here, Barry.”

She took hold of his arm and led him over to the med bay, where he collapsed onto the medical bed, taking deep gasping breaths. He was covered in sweat, both from running and from the stress of the gunshot wound on his left shoulder.

Caitlin quickly peeled off the Flash suit so she could take a better look at the wound. Once Barry was shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bed, she was better able to see the injury, which was still bleeding, though not as profusely as it was initially.

She immediately rushed to pull out the blood they had on hand for emergencies and put it on a warmer, so she could transfuse it as soon as possible.

“Don’t worry, Barry. It doesn’t look like the bullet hit anything major,” she said, as she circled around the table to look at Barry’s back.

When she came back around to face him, Barry saw her worried expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her breathlessly.

Caitlin bit her lower lip.

“Barry, there’s no exit wound,” she said in a strained voice.

Barry, who was already turning pale, now turned completely white. He paused for a moment before speaking.

“Just get it out,” he said through gritted teeth, “ _Fast_. Before I heal with it inside me.”

Caitlin nodded, giving him a brief, pitying look before turning to grab some of her tools.

After starting him on a blood transfusion, Caitlin had Barry lay back on the bed.

“Just try to relax, Barry,” she said gently.

Barry tried hard not to scoff. It was a little hard to relax when your doctor was looking at you the way Caitlin was looking at him now. He knew this was going to hurt like hell.

Before she could start, however, they were interrupted when Iris and Joe both frantically entered the med bay.

“How is he?” Joe asked immediately upon entering the room, “I heard over the scanner that the Flash was shot. Is that true?”

His question was answered for him, however, when he approached the medical bed and saw for himself.

“Oh my God,” Iris said, quickly grabbing Barry’s hand to comfort him.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Barry gritted out between harsh breaths.

If he wasn’t so pale and sweaty, it almost would have been convincing.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlin said urgently, “but I don’t have time to catch you guys up. I need to get the bullet out now, before he heals. The wound is already closing, and the longer we wait to remove it, the more painful this will be.”

With that, she stepped forward with a few surgical drapes. She placed them around the wound, squaring it off, before pouring some iodine onto it.

“God!” Barry yelled through gritted teeth when it started to sting.

He squeezed Iris’s hand.

“Sorry,” Caitlin said, giving him an apologetic look.

“Please, at least _tell_ me before you do something,” Barry said irritably.

He usually tried not to snap at Caitlin when he was in pain, but he challenged anyone not to be a little irritable and on edge when they had a bullet in their shoulder and they were impervious to pain meds.

“I will,” Caitlin answered, grabbing her tools, “Sorry, Barry.”

“It’s fine,” he gritted out, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed.

Iris gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, wishing she could do more for him.

“Okay, I’ll just have to widen the opening a little bit, so I can access the bullet,” Caitlin said, a surgical scissors in hand.

“Close your eyes, Bar,” Joe said, looking at the wound with a nauseated look on his face, “Don’t watch.”

Barry didn’t close his eyes, but he did look away from what Caitlin was doing. He trained his eyes on Iris as she held his hand.

“Okay, I’m starting now,” Caitlin said.

When Barry felt the first snip of the surgical scissors opening up the wound, he let out a strangled yell and squeezed his eyes shut. Iris rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, wishing she could take his pain away from him somehow.

“Good job, Barry,” Caitlin said encouragingly as she worked.

Barry didn’t respond. He just focused on his breathing and Iris’s hand in his, as Caitlin grabbed another instrument.

“Okay, I’m going to try to get the bullet out now,” she said.

They all could hear the nervousness in her voice. This was going to hurt.

“Fuck!” Barry yelled when she pressed a long tweezers into the entry wound, digging for the bullet.

Barry’s eyes started to water now, and he didn’t hold back his screams as he crushed Iris’s hand. His screams subsided when Caitlin suddenly stopped.

“Did you get it?” Joe asked as Barry caught his breath.

Iris took a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.

“It’s in there too far,” Caitlin said, her frustration growing, “I’m going to try a forceps instead.”

“I’m feeling dizzy,” Iris said honestly, trying not to look at the wound or at Barry at all. She was still holding his hand, but she was looking away from him.

“Sit down, Iris,” Caitlin said, “Let Joe take over for you.”

Iris nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Barry,” she said as she let go of his hand and Joe stepped forward to take her place.

“I understand,” Barry managed to breathe out as Joe took his hand and Iris left the room.

“Alright, I’m going to continue now, Barry,” Caitlin said softly.

“Okay,” Barry whispered.

Before she could start, however, he gripped her arm and looked at her, his eyes going in and out of focus.

“Don’t stop this time,” he said in a strained voice, “Just get the bastard out.”

She nodded understandingly, and he let go of her arm.

Barry’s screams resumed immediately when Caitlin started digging in the wound again, using a forceps this time. Barry crushed Joe’s hand, but Joe didn’t care. He would let Barry _break_ his hand if he thought it would help, even in the slightest.

“It’s okay,” Joe cooed, running his free hand through Barry’s sweaty hair, “It’s alright, you’re doing good, son.”

Caitlin made a frustrated noise as she dug further into the wound with the forceps.

“Do you have it?” Joe asked anxiously over Barry’s yells, watching the procedure with a nauseated expression on his face.

“It’s in there so far,” Caitlin said desperately.

“Just get it out!” Barry yelled.

“Shhh,” Joe said gently, continuing to run his hand through Barry’s hair, “Bar, it’s alright. She’s going to get it. Just hang in there.”

Barry’s breathing became ragged and strained as Caitlin struggled to retrieve the bullet from his shoulder. It seemed to go on forever for him.

“Got it!” she finally yelled out when the forceps closed around the bullet.

She made short work of pulling it out, deciding to do it quickly to get it over with for Barry.

“Thank God,” Barry breathed, his grip on Joe’s hand loosening slightly.

He was still in a considerable amount of pain, but at least Caitlin wasn’t digging around in his gunshot wound anymore.

“Okay, I just have to stitch you up now, Barry,” Caitlin told him, “That, you’ve had done before.”

“Unfortunately,” he added with a small laugh.

He regretted it instantly. Laughing made the pain so much worse, and he had to grit his teeth again as he waited for the pain to subside.

Barry winced when Caitlin started to stitch the wound up, but he managed not to yell or cry out this time. He gritted his teeth and endured it in silence, focusing on Joe’s hand in his hair rather than on what the doctor was doing with his shoulder.

He was exhausted by the time she finished. Barry wasn’t sure if he passed out before she was finished stitching him up or if it was after she was done. All he knew was that within a few minutes of her starting, he was finally granted the blissful relief that was unconsciousness.

* * *

When Barry came to, he was confused at first. It took him a moment or two to remember why he was in the medical bed at STAR Labs. He reached up with his opposite arm to feel his shoulder. There was a large bandage covering the wound, and it was still sore as hell, meaning he hadn’t been out for very long and his healing hadn’t had a chance to repair it much yet.

When he braced his good arm on the bed and started trying to push himself up, someone came forward to stop him.

“Hey, easy, Bar,” Joe said, gently pushing him back down, “Don’t try to sit up.”

“How are you feeling?” Iris asked worriedly, coming to stand next to her father by Barry’s bed.

“Wow, that really sucked,” Barry rasped.

Iris and Joe laughed lightly at that, just as Caitlin was entering the room.

“Barry, do you know how lucky you are?” she scolded, approaching the bed, “If that bullet would have been just an inch lower, it would have severed your subclavian artery.”

Barry rolled his eyes and laughed lightly at her antics.

“It’s not funny, Barry,” she said seriously, “Two minutes. A normal person can bleed out in just two short minutes from a wound like that.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not normal then,” Barry countered, “And a good thing I have an excellent doctor.”

His attempt at flattery didn’t quite work on her. Caitlin continued to look at him with a serious expression on her face. Barry’s own face suddenly became serious when he thought of something.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, “With the metahuman?”

The other three all looked at each other, exchanging somber looks.

“He’s dead, Bar,” Joe told him after a moment, “He was killed on scene.”

Barry sighed and closed his eyes.

“That last bullet,” he said quietly, “I tried to stop it. I reached out for it, but I missed it.”

“Barry, it’s not your fault,” Iris assured him, “You tried your best.”

“I need to see the news,” Barry said urgently, his eyes widening, “I need to see what they’re saying.”

“Bar,” Joe said somberly, “That’s probably not the best idea. You really should rest right now.”

“I’m fine,” Barry said, sitting up in bed.

Thankfully, no one stopped him this time. They all just looked at him worriedly.

“I have to know,” he said seriously.

The others all exchanged unsure looks with each other, but eventually Joe looked at him and nodded.

“Alright, Bar,” he whispered.

Leaning on Joe for support, Barry managed to get out of bed and walk into the cortex, where Caitlin pulled up Channel 52 News for him to see for himself what they were saying about him. His blood ran cold when he saw the headline at the bottom of the page.

_Flash Teams up with Metahuman Against Police Officers_

“…Police say that the Flash was shot and wounded during the struggle, but he managed to escape before they could bring him into custody under obstruction charges. According to local witnesses, the metahuman was terrorizing the city, and when police tried to stop him, the Flash attempted to put himself between the meta and their line of fire, getting himself shot in the process.”

Caitlin flipped it to a different channel where another reporter was talking about the incident. The caption under her read: _Scarlet Speedster or Sinister Speedster?_

It seemed to be all they were talking about on every channel.

“…There can be any number of reasons why the Flash would save a metahuman. It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s turning on us. It poses a lot of questions, though, as to where his loyalties lie.”

“…Clinton Price warned us this would happen!” a woman who was being interviewed on the street said hysterically into the camera, “He said it was only a matter of time before the Flash teamed up with his fellow metas against humans.”

“…I was there on the street, and I saw the whole thing go down. If you ask me, the police were a little quick to open fire. The Flash seemed to have everything under control until then.”

“…The damage caused by the Flash and the rogue meta will cost millions to repair. This isn’t the first time the Flash’s actions have caused damage to our city. Several of his fights have left behind millions in property damage.”

“…He’s evil!” a man shouted to the interviewer, “He’s been evil this whole time! He’s only been posing as a hero to gain our trust! The Flash must be stopped! I say we—”

Caitlin shut the TV off then. Everyone looked at Barry who was still staring at the blank screen, his hands clenched into fists.

“Barry…?” Caitlin said sadly.

Barry just shook his head.

“Barry, people always overreact to these things,” Iris said quickly, “It’ll blow over soon.”

“That’s what we keep saying,” Barry said quietly, “But it hasn’t. Things have only continued to escalate, no matter what we do.”

“Bar…” Joe said, but Barry just shook his head.

“Has Price said his piece about all this yet?” he asked them.

They all exchanged uneasy looks.

“Not yet,” Joe answered, “He’s scheduled to give a campaign speech tonight.”

Barry nodded slowly, looking thoughtfully at the floor.

“Barry…” Caitlin said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Cait, if it’s okay, I think I’m going to go home now,” he said quietly.

They all frowned and looked at each other.

“Is he okay to go home?” Joe asked the doctor.

Caitlin sighed.

“Let me just check his bandage once first,” she said.

She peeled back Barry’s bandage to check the wound. It still wasn’t fully healed, yet.

“I suppose you’ll be okay to go home. There’s really no reason to make you spend the night,” she said thoughtfully, “Just make sure you change the bandage every three hours, though.”

She moved over to the cupboard to grab something.

“Here, Barry,” she said, sliding a sling around his arm, “You really should try to keep your shoulder immobilized. Try not to move your arm too much.”

Barry nodded and didn’t say anything as she fastened the sling around his neck. When she was done, he stood up and walked toward the door. The other three exchanged worried looks for a moment before Joe and Iris followed him out of the cortex.

Barry was silent the entire drive home. Iris and Joe tried to offer him words of comfort, but he didn’t really respond to their reassurance, and they eventually stopped trying. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for a pep talk.

When they got home, Barry made his way into the living room, and he instantly turned the TV on, putting on the news. Iris and Joe stood in the doorway behind him, both exchanging worried looks, wondering if they should try to stop him from watching it. Both decided against it. They knew it would only irritate Barry further if they tried to shield him from hearing all the horrible things they were saying about the Flash, and he would hear about it all eventually anyways.

“Barry,” Iris said, coming back into the living room an hour later, “Dinner’s ready.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Barry said quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen, “Thanks, Iris.”

Iris looked at the screen, too. The caption read: “ _Meta Registration Act Gains Support After Sinister Speedster Attack.”_

 _Really?!_ Iris thought to herself, _Since when did Barry attack anyone?! And since when did they start calling him the Sinister Speedster?!_

“Barry, you really shouldn’t waste your time watching this,” Iris said, “You know they always blow everything out of proportion. It’s all just bullshit political propaganda.”

“I know,” Barry said, “ _I_ know that, but other people don’t. Other people watching this are going to believe what they’re saying. They’re going to lose their faith in the Flash.”

“Then you’ll win it back,” Iris said simply, “We’ll get through this, Bar.”

“What if that act goes through, though?” Barry asked, and Iris felt her heart sink when she saw the fear in his eyes.

Barry actually looked scared.

“Iris, this is serious.”

“Barry, I know you’re scared,” she said, “but—”

“Of course I’m scared!” Barry said loudly, “I’m _terrified_. This is why I told Cisco to leave town. Iris, if this escalates, it could turn into a full-on war. The Flash was the only positive face for metahumans, the only thing that was stopping people from supporting Price’s campaign, but now, with the media on his side, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop this.”

Iris nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry, Barry,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry you have to be in that position. I can’t even imagine…”

Barry didn’t answer but instead looked at the screen again.

“Barry, you should come eat dinner,” Iris insisted, hating the idea of him spending his whole night watching the news, obsessing over this, “You’ll heal faster if you eat.”

“I can’t,” he said, “Clinton Price’s speech is in ten minutes.”

“Barry, you already know what he’s going to say,” she said, “Why watch it? It’s only going to upset you.”

“Just because I don’t want to hear it, it doesn’t mean I don’t have to,” Barry said, “Blinding myself to the issue isn’t going to make it go away.”

Iris stared at him sadly for a moment, but Barry didn’t look back at her. He had gone back to watching the news, raptly hanging onto every word they were saying. After a moment, Iris gave up and walked away.


	3. The Metahuman Registration Act

* * *

**The Metahuman Registration Act**

* * *

The act went through.

Within a week of the incident involving the Flash being shot and nearly arrested by police, the Metahuman Registration Act was passed. Clinton Price was able to rapidly force it through legislation on the grounds of the issue with metahumans being an emergent pandemic. The whole thing reeked of scandal and controversy, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. It seemed Price was in contact with all the right people in government.

Just thinking about the act made Barry sick.

“Barry, we need to discuss this,” Caitlin insisted, “We need to talk about what’s going to happen now that this act has gone through.”

“We all know what’s going to happen,” Barry said angrily, “All metahumans now have to report to the Metahuman Regulation Agency to get ‘processed and registered.’”

“What happens if they don’t?” Iris asked, looking nervously at Barry.

“Singh was telling me the other day that they have a way to draw them out,” Joe said ominously, “He said he didn’t know how they were planning to do it, but he said that Price’s new agency has been working with Mercury Labs to develop a way to identify metahumans.”

“Has anyone registered yet?” Caitlin asked, “Has anyone willingly come forward to register?”

“A few,” Joe answered, “I really don’t know much about it, though. The police have very little to do with enforcing the new act. The MRA was formed to do that task.”

“So, you have no idea what they’re planning?” Iris asked, “You don’t know what they want?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Barry said darkly, “They want to control us. Identifying us is just the first step. Once they’ve drawn us all out into the open, they’re going to do everything in their power to oppress metahumans—to take away their rights.”

Everyone in the room stared him. No one said anything to argue with his theory. A few months ago, they would have found the idea outrageous, but now…

“Barry, you have to leave!” Iris urged, “You have to get out of Central City while you still can!”

“I can’t leave,” Barry said flatly.

“Why not?!” she asked shrilly.

“I can’t just wash my hands of this,” Barry insisted, “I have to try to fix this, before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late, Bar?” Joe asked sadly, “You’ve done so much already for this city, and look where it’s gotten you. I think, at this point, you need to start looking out for yourself. You forced Cisco to leave town ages ago. Now, it’s your turn.”

“I can’t just turn my back on this city,” Barry said stubbornly.

“You mean the city that’s already turned its back on _you_?” Caitlin asked quietly.

Barry gave her a pained look.

“What about the rest of the metahumans?” he asked, “I’m supposed to just leave them to Price’s mercy?”

“If they’re smart, they’ll get out of town, too,” Joe said reasonably.

Barry shook his head.

“People aren’t going to be that quick to just up and leave everything behind,” he reasoned, “Plenty of them will stick around, and we’re talking a _lot_ of people, Joe. We’ve roughly estimated that about two percent of the people in Central City were potentially altered by the particle accelerator explosion. That may not seem like much, but there are over two-hundred-ninety- _thousand_ people living in Central City. That would mean about fifty-eight-hundred of them are potentially metahumans. That’s fifty-eight-hundred people’s freedom that’s at stake here.”

“But the act doesn’t take away their freedom,” Caitlin pointed out, “It only makes them out themselves. We haven’t seen anything being passed that allows the MRA to take away any rights or freedoms.”

“Yet,” Barry added bitterly, “We have to stop this. I’m going to stop this from happening.”

“Barry,” Joe said sadly, “It’s already happening. You need to get out while you still can.”

And so on it went. For a solid week, they argued with Barry, begging for him to leave, but he stubbornly maintained his position that only a coward would run and desert his city like that. He still optimistically believed  he could still do something about this—that he could put things right again.

And then people started disappearing.

All over the city, people were starting to go missing, each of them having gone to the MRA to willingly register themselves as metahumans, believing the MRA’s promises that metahumans who cooperated would be treated better than those who didn’t. Eventually, people stopped willingly coming forward after hearing the rumors of the previous metahumans’ disappearances. People were scared. No one knew what had happened to all the missing people, and fear and tension grew throughout the city, despite the MRA’s reassurances that the people who had turned themselves in were simply going through processing and that they would be set free soon.

What caused even more fear was the fact that MRA officials were posted all along the outskirts of Central City, stopping anyone who was going in or out to question them. No one came or went without checking in with the MRA first. Rumors were that they had actually managed to identify a few fleeing metahumans by doing this, but nobody really knew how they were doing it—how they were able to expose a metahuman against his or her will.

Barry worked tirelessly, both as the Flash and as a CSI, to figure out what the MRA was doing with the registered metahumans. He was working in his lab on a Tuesday afternoon, trying to chase down a lead he had on the MRA when he was interrupted by one of the CCPD officers.

“Allen, get downstairs,” Officer Dilloshaw said abruptly, appearing in the doorway to Barry’s lab, “Captain wants us all down there.”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Barry answered, barely glancing up from his research.

“You need to get down there _now_ , Allen,” the officer said urgently.

Barry looked up now, having heard the fear in the officer’s voice. Dilloshaw’s facial expression matched his nervous voice. Something was up. He left before Barry could ask him about it, though. There was only one way to find out now.

When he descended down the stairs to the ground level, Barry found the entire precinct all lined up in a row, as if this were row call in the military or something. He moved to stand next to one of the younger officers in the line. Joe was a little ways away from him, and from the glance that the two of them shared, Barry could tell he was nervous. That’s when Barry turned to see the handful of military personnel who seemed to be in charge. Captain Singh stood next to them in front of the lined up officers, an apprehensive look on his face.

“These gentlemen here are with the MRA,” Singh informed them all, clearly trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, “As a part of the new Registration Act, they’re going around scanning citizens, looking for metahumans. They’re only just starting to test out their new identification tech from Mercury Labs. MRA protocol says they have to start by identifying metahumans working within our justice system first. Everyone here has to be scanned. We’ll be going down the line here. Please have your identification ready to prove you are who you say you are. A driver’s license will suffice. After you’ve passed the scan, you’ll be free to head over to that counter over there where these two women will be processing the paper work. Once you’ve been cleared, please hold onto your paperwork. It will be your legal documentation of proof that you are human.”

With that, a man with a handheld scanner stepped forward towards the end of the line, where Detective Morison stood. After verifying Detective Morison’s identity, he passed the scanner over him. The light on the scanner flashed green.

“He’s clear,” the tester said.

Detective Morison let out a sigh of relief before moving over to the processing counter to receive his official documentation verifying he was human. Everyone else who had yet to be scanned was still on edge, though. As the tester moved down the row to the next person, Barry clenched his sweaty hands into fists.

What was he supposed to do? He was about to be outed in front of everybody, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t just disappear. That would essentially accomplish the same thing. All he could do was simply stand here and wait to be scanned by the tester.

When the tester reached Officer Liddell, who was standing only five people away from Barry, the scanners suddenly beeped loudly and flashed red. Everyone tensed and stared in shock. Officer Liddell looked appalled.

“We have a meta,” the tester said, looking back at the other military personal, who stepped forward.

“But I’m not a metahuman!” Officer Liddell said hysterically, “I don’t have any powers! I’m human! I swear!”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go with these men here,” the leading MRA officer told him as two men stepped up to the shocked officer to stand on either side of him.

“I’m not a meta, though!” he nearly shouted, “I swear to God! I’m not a meta!”

The men led him from the room, leading him out of the precinct. Where they went after that was unclear.

After they had left, Captain Singh stepped toward the MRA officer.

“Where are you taking him?” he asked the man quietly, although everyone could hear him.

The fact that even the captain didn’t know everything that was going on wasn’t very reassuring for the rest of them.

“Don’t worry about that,” the MRA officer answered dismissively, “He just has to go through processing. He’ll be back. The registration process just takes a while, that’s all.”

The captain didn’t look very reassured by this. None of them were. If anything, they were all even more nervous. Really, any of them could be a metahuman and not know it, just like Officer Liddell. Just because they didn’t have powers, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be a metahuman. Anyone could have been affected by that particle accelerator.

Barry didn’t know what to do. The tester was only two people away from him now. He had to do something, right? But what could he do? Before he could figure out any sort of plan, though, the person next to him was cleared and the tester was standing in front of him with his scanner.

“Your ID please,” the tester demanded, holding out his hand.

Barry hesitantly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He shakily handed over his driver’s license.

“Allen, Bartholomew,” the tester said.

Barry saw the person standing behind the tester take down his information. He was able to exchange one last nervous look with Joe before the scanner was being waved in front of him. Not at all to his surprise, the scanner beeped loudly and flashed red.

“We have another meta,” the tester said.

Barry simply stared at him, unable to look at anybody else. He didn’t want to see their reactions, didn’t want to see them all looking at him like he was some sort of freak. He couldn’t bear it. He could feel all their eyes on him, all his coworkers staring at him in shock. Barry kept his eyes on the military officer in front of him, not returning any of their gazes.

Two more MRA officers stepped forward towards him, each taking hold of one of his arms. Barry didn’t fight back. He knew he could escape their grasp any time he wanted to, but he didn’t see the point in fighting them. For now, he would cooperate.

“You too, Barry?” Singh asked sadly as they passed.

They paused in front of the captain, and Barry looked at the ground.

“It was the lightning,” he muttered quietly, unable to look the captain in the eye.

Singh seemed to hesitate slightly before resting a supportive hand on Barry’s shoulder. Barry looked up at him, and for a moment he was able to see the deepest regret in the captain’s eyes before he was being led out of the precinct by the two military officers. He got just a brief glimpse of Joe’s worried expression as he was being led away.


	4. Registration and Processing

* * *

**Registration and Processing**

* * *

For weeks, Barry had been working tirelessly to figure out where the registered metas had been taken and what was being done to them, and now he was finally going to find out.

In the worst way possible.

After exiting the precinct, Barry had been loaded into the back of a van, right along with Officer Liddell. Barry was nervous, but he wasn’t scared as he climbed into the van. He knew he could escape any time he wanted, and that fact alone was a huge comfort to him.

It wasn’t long, however, before that comfort was taken away. Barry hadn’t thought anything of it when they put handcuffs on him. He knew they were just trying to be cautious, and he didn’t fight them as they closed the bands around his wrists. It wasn’t until after the cuffs were on that Barry noticed they weren’t just normal handcuffs. They had some kind of tech applied to them. With a horrible feeling in his gut, Barry waited until none of the MRA officers were looking before he tried to vibrate his hand.

He didn’t have his speed.

The handcuffs were suppressing his powers.

For the first time since the scanner had flashed red and exposed him as a metahuman, Barry was more than just nervous; he was scared. He had no control now. No power. He was just starting to realize now that he was completely at their mercy, that it was too late to fight back.

He had missed his chance.

Barry held his breath as the van lurched forward, starting to move towards wherever they were planning to take him. His heart raced as he rode in the back of the van, trying to remain calm as he thought over his options. He could still try to fight back, even without his speed, but it seemed futile. There were too many soldiers, and the MRA knew what he was now, something that he couldn’t undo. Even if he managed to escape, he would have to become a fugitive then. They knew.

Everyone knew.

At least Cisco was safe. He wouldn’t have anyone after him trying to hunt him down. His identity wasn’t compromised because he had left town in time. If only Barry hadn’t been so stubborn. If only he had taken his own advice and left town like he had urged Cisco to do. Now, he was powerless and terrified, riding in the back of a military van that was taking him God knows where.

* * *

Joe’s heart was racing as he stood in the line of officers still being scanned. He wasn’t worried about himself. After all, there was only a two percent chance he was a metahuman and didn’t know it.

No, Joe was worried for Barry. He had been led away, no doubt to be taken to wherever it was they were taking the rest of the exposed metahumans. Joe hardly paid it a second thought when was he was scanned. He barely heard it when the tester said, “he’s clear.” Joe was too focused on worrying about Barry and what was going to happen to him now.

No one else at the precinct tested positive for being a metahuman. It had just been Barry and Officer Liddell. No one really spoke much until after the MRA officials had left. It wasn’t until then that Joe found himself being swarmed by his coworkers, all asking questions.

“Was it a surprise, or did Barry know?”

“He didn’t seem that surprised. He must have known. What’s his power?”

“Did you know about it? Did Barry ever tell you he was a meta?”

Joe didn’t answer any of their questions. He hardly even acknowledged them as he walked through the precinct, towards the exit.

“Leave him alone!” Singh barked at them, “Enough questions. Everyone, go back to your work!”

As the rest of them all walked away, most of them still talking about what had happened, Joe stopped walking towards the exit and faced Singh.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“No problem,” the captain said sympathetically, “Joe, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault,” Joe said, “I know your hands were tied. I don’t blame you.”

Singh continued to give him the same pitying look.

“Still,” he said, “I’m sorry this is happening.”

“Do you know where they took him?” Joe asked desperately, already knowing what the captain’s answer would be.

“No,” Singh said regretfully, “They haven’t really told me much.”

“I have to go,” Joe said, turning to leave.

“Joe,” Singh said urgently, “Don’t try to follow them. I’m sure they’re gone by now, and human civilians who get in their way of apprehending metahumans will find themselves facing legal consequences far more severe than simple obstruction of justice charges.”

“So, what?” Joe asked, “I’m supposed to just stand here and not do anything?”

“There’s nothing you _can_ do, Joe,” Singh said sadly, “Not now.”

“Can you help him?” Joe asked desperately, “Is there anyone you can talk to? Anything you can do to get Barry out of this?”

“I can’t, Joe,” Singh said regretfully, “Barry’s a metahuman. I can’t help him now. If you two had come forward and told me from the start that Barry was a metahuman, I maybe could have done something. I would have told Barry to get out of town a long time ago. Really, I’m surprised Barry didn’t do that in the first place. He knew he was a metahuman, right?”

Joe nodded.

“Yeah, he knew,” he said quietly, “I’ve been trying to get him to leave for weeks. He wouldn’t listen. He’s convinced he can still stop this from happening.”

Singh just shook his head.

“I don’t think anyone can stop this now,” he said sadly, “Not even the Flash.”

Joe sighed and wiped his eyes, having not even realized he had been crying. Singh gave him a sympathetic look.

“What’s Barry’s power, Joe?” Singh asked lightly, “Does he have any?”

Joe nodded slowly.

“I can’t tell you what it is,” he said quietly, “It’s not for me to tell, and really the less people that know, the better.”

Singh nodded thoughtfully.

“I guess, to the MRA, it doesn’t matter what your power is,” he said, “If you’re a meta, you’re a meta. Quite a few of them don’t even have powers or special abilities. Most just have a slight gene mutation, but the MRA is treating them all the same regardless.”

“I have to go,” Joe said, “I have to let everyone else know what happened to Barry.”

“Of course,” Singh said understandingly, “Take as much time off as you need.”

“Thank you, David.”

* * *

Caitlin did everything in her power to try to track Barry down, but she wasn’t as good on a computer as Cisco was, and bringing Cisco back here was definitely not an option now with everything that was going on. They doubted whether Cisco could even get into Central City at this point without being caught by the MRA. They were that thorough.

 “What do you think they’re doing to him?” Iris asked in a scared voice, “What do you think is happening to Barry right now?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said quietly.

None of them did. For all they knew, Barry wasn’t even in Central City anymore.

When Joe’s phone started ringing, he looked at the caller ID and excused himself to take the call. Once he was gone, Iris and Caitlin were left alone in the cortex. Iris looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“We’re going to find him, Iris,” Caitlin assured her, “We’ll get Barry back.”

Iris nodded and wiped her face.

“This is what Barry has been so afraid of,” she said, “This is his worst nightmare.”

“Barry will be fine,” Caitlin said, “He’ll be okay, Iris.”

“You don’t know that,” Iris said quietly, “No one knows where they’ve taken all the metahumans. What if they kill him? What if they _experiment_ on him?! Oh, God, Caitlin.”

“Iris, calm down,” Caitlin told her, “Panicking isn’t going to help Barry right now. We’re going to do everything we can to find him and get him back.”

Iris nodded and sniffed, tears still falling down her face. When her father reentered the room, both women stood up straight.

“Was that Singh?” Iris asked hopefully, “Is there any news?”

“No,” Joe said sadly, “It was Wally. He’s at home, and he’s wondering where we are.”

“Oh,” Iris said, disappointed.

“He said that people were being scanned all throughout the city now,” Joe told them, “It started with law enforcement. Then they tested all the health care workers. Now it seems they’re testing anyone and everyone. People are supposed to report to the MRA to get scanned.”

“Should we?” Iris asked uncertainly, looking around at everyone.

Joe sighed.

“I don’t like it, but everyone is going to get scanned eventually anyways. We might as well cooperate for the time being. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves now. We’ve already tested you and Wally and know that you’re not metahumans, so really we have no reason not to cooperate.”

* * *

As Wally stood in line with Iris at the new MRA headquarters to get scanned, he couldn’t understand why she kept sniffling and wiping her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, “You know you don’t have to be afraid, right? It’s just a quick scan.”

“No, Wally,” she said, “It’s not that.”

Wally looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to explain.

“It’s Barry,” she choked, “Barry’s gone.”

“What?” Wally asked in shock, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“They took him,” Iris said tearfully, “The MRA. They took him earlier this morning.”

“They took…?” Wally said in confusion.

Then his eyes grew wide.

“Barry’s a metahuman?!”

Iris nodded sadly and wiped her eyes.

“He has been ever since he was struck by lightning,” she told him.

Wally stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging open.

“And you guys didn’t think that was something you should _mention_ to me?” he asked incredulously.

“It was Barry’s secret to tell,” Iris said simply, still wiping her eyes, “He was going to tell you when he was ready.”

“What’s his power?” Wally asked immediately.

Iris sighed.

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” she said, looking around at all the people who were standing in line with them, “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

With that, Iris ended the conversation. The wait in line went surprisingly quick. Really, the scanning process was quite simple. It was only when that light flashed red that things got complicated. Iris and Wally both passed through the scanners quickly and retrieved their paperwork after they had been cleared as human.

Joe was extremely relieved when both Wally and Iris returned home. They had already known they weren’t metahumans, so Joe knew he didn’t have to worry too much about it, but he had still been anxious for them to return home.

“Are you guys going to tell me everything now?” Wally demanded after they had gotten back.

Joe and Iris looked at each other. Joe let out a heavy sigh.

“Sit down, Wally.”

* * *

Barry sat on the cold, hard floor of his cell. He was shaking non-stop and had been for over an hour. He wasn’t sure if it was from how cold it was, from the strange hand cuffs that were still on him, or simply from fear. Probably a combination of the three. He looked down at his arm. The cell was poorly lit, but he could still see all the marks on his arm from all the blood samples they had drawn from him.

They had taken quite the scientific approach for their metahuman processing system. Clearly they had been doing their research on metahumans and how they work. Barry was actually surprised by how much they knew.

Metahumans were being classified into two different categories, metas with powers and metas without. Metahuman science was obviously still a relatively new field of study, but the scientists seemed to have found a way of distinguishing the two types by looking at the metas’ DNA. Even though they didn’t have any special abilities, metahumans without powers were still considered high risk members of society. They didn’t have powers, but they had the capacity to eventually develop them under the right circumstances, making them just as dangerous as their fellow metahumans who possessed special abilities.

Barry had been quickly classified as a power-possessing metahuman. They had determined that easily just by looking at a few of his blood samples. What was harder, though, was determining what powers a metahuman had exactly. Barry hadn’t exactly been compliant during the questioning stage of his processing. He had refused to tell them what his power was. He wasn’t about to readily supply them with that information. Telling them he had superspeed might as well be telling them he was the Flash.

He didn’t even want to know what they would do to him if they knew that bit of information. Best case scenario, they would use him as a tool in the media, forcing him to do and say whatever they told him to in order to support their own cause. Worst case scenario, they would kill him or even worse, experiment on him. Barry really didn’t know what they would do with him. He just knew that he wasn’t about to tell them who he really was any time soon.

…..

Wally didn’t say anything at first. He simply sat there on the couch, staring at the coffee table as he thought over everything they had just told him.

“So when the Flash saved me during that street race,” he said slowly, “That was Barry.”

“Yes,” Iris said.

“And when that freaky shark guy in pants burst through our house like the Kool Aid man and the Flash stopped him?”

“Barry,” Joe said.

Wally nodded and let out a large breath of air.

“I owe him an apology,” he muttered to himself.

Then he looked up at the other two, both of whom were simply standing there, anxiously watching his reaction.

“You really never thought this was something that you should have told me sooner?” Wally asked incredulously.

“Barry thought about letting you in on it, but I convinced him not to,” Joe said.

“Why?” Wally asked.

“Probably for the same reason he never wanted Barry to tell _me_ ,” Iris said, casting her dad an irritated look, “He wanted to keep you safe.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Wally said angrily, “I probably would have been safer if you had just told me.”

“That’s what I said,” Iris said, shooting her dad another look.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, when Joe’s phone rang.

“Yeah?” he answered.

He paused for a moment as the person the other line spoke.

“Okay. Sounds goods. We’ll be there right away.”

He hung up quickly.

“That was Caitlin,” he said, “She said she may have found out where they’ve taken Barry, along with the rest of the missing metahumans.”

* * *

Barry pulled futilely at the handcuffs surrounding his wrists. He had been doing so for hours, and all he had managed to accomplish was to rub his wrists raw. He couldn’t vibrate out of them. He still didn’t have his speed because of whatever the handcuffs were doing to him. It had been hours since they had last questioned him, and Barry knew he should be saving his energy and trying to rest before his next interrogation, but he couldn’t rest knowing he was still in this cell with no way out. He had never felt this helpless.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when his cell door was opened and a man walked into the room.

“You’re out of luck, kid,” the MRA officer said smugly, “The state just passed a new legislation.”

“And what legislation is that?” Barry asked angrily, not allowing any of his fear to leak into his voice.

“Metahumans are no longer legally recognized as human,” he said, pausing to let this piece of information sink in.

Barry stared at him.

“That’s impossible,” he said in angry disbelief, “The state would never pass a legislation like that. That would take years to pass, and it would never in a million years ever go through. It’s ridiculous!”

“What can I say?” the officer said in amusement, “Clinton Price must have some friends in high places. I don’t know how they passed it so quick. All I know is that human rights no longer apply to you now, and do you know what that means?”

Barry didn’t respond. He simply sat there on the floor, glaring up at the man, waiting for him to continue.

“It means that if you aren’t compliant with us, we are permitted to do whatever we deem necessary to get whatever information we need out of you, human rights be damned.”

Barry paled slightly, but he didn’t let his fear show on his face.

“You can all go to hell,” he spat, “I’m not telling you anything.”

The man’s smile deepened.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Barry was expecting to then be dragged from the room and tortured, but he was surprised when a moment later the man turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him. He had only a moment to be confused before suddenly a thick cloud-like vapor started to fill the room. Barry stood up in alarm and moved towards the door.

“Hey!” he shouted, pounding on the door, “What is this?!”

There was no reply, though, and Barry soon found himself inhaling the unknown substance that permeated the air. He tried to cover his mouth and nose with his still-cuffed hands, but within a minute or two, Barry started to feel dizzy. He struck the door feebly a couple more times before sliding down it and onto the floor as the world slipped away from him.

* * *

“Barry is still in Central City,” Caitlin told them, “Here’s what I’ve found so far.”

She pulled up several maps of Central City on the main screen in the cortex.

“The government recently acquired all of this land right in the middle of Central,” she said, pointing out an area on the map, “I’ve been looking into what that space is used for, but it turns out that it’s been mostly empty parking space…until now.”

A handful of very official looking documents suddenly appeared on the screen.

“There have been several orders issued by the government within the last few months implementing construction to be done in this area. Guess who owns the rights to the new buildings there now,” she said, looking at the others.

“The MRA,” said Joe seriously.

“Exactly,” Caitlin confirmed, “I don’t know what they’re using the buildings for, but I bet you anything that that’s where they’re keeping Barry and the rest of the metahumans.”

“Okay, so how do we get them out?” Iris asked urgently.

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, “I haven’t been able to do much more with this. All the information I’ve found is simply a matter of public record. I got a hold of Felicity, though, and she’s trying to hack into the MRA’s data frame to see what’s going on inside the MRA.”

“So in other words, we’ve still got nothing,” Joe said in disappointment.

“At least we still know that Barry’s in Central City,” Iris pointed out, “For all we knew, he could’ve been anywhere.”

“Yeah, well that doesn’t really reassure me much for some reason,” Joe said somberly.

* * *

When Barry woke up again, he was surprised to find that he was still in the same cell as before, his wrists still handcuffed. Had they even moved him? He thought for sure he would find himself waking up on some sadistic experimentation table or something, but that wasn’t the case.

As Barry sat up, though, and leaned his back against the wall of the cell, he realized then that he _had_ been moved. He was on the other side of the cell now, not in front of the door like he had been when he had lost consciousness. He had no idea how much time had passed in between, but he was shocked when he looked down and found himself to be wearing different clothes than before. As he tilted his head forward to look down at the gray, almost prison-like, uniform he had been changed into, Barry suddenly felt a sharp pain in his neck.

“Argh,” he groaned, as he reached up with his cuffed hands to feel the back of his neck.

His blood ran cold when he felt a large bandage there. There was moisture seeping through it, and when Barry pulled his hand away, his fingers were coated with red.

“What did you do to me?!” Barry yelled towards the door as he struggled to stand up, his handcuffs and his wooziness making that difficult.

There was no answer. Feeling too dizzy to keep standing, Barry slid back down the side of the wall to sit. He leaned his head back to rest against the wall, taking deep breaths as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head, the sharp spikes of pain in his neck, and the terrible waves of nausea that were washing over him.

What had these people done to him?

* * *

When Iris woke up the next morning, she was hoping everything that had happened the day before was just a terrible dream. When she went to Barry’s room and found it empty, however, she was cruelly reminded that it had actually happened. Barry was still gone. He was still under the MRA’s custody. When she descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen, it was to find her dad pacing the room as he urgently spoke into his cellphone.

“Do you think you could ask him for me?” he was saying frantically, “He might not be on the inside, but he might know something.”

Iris sat down at the kitchen table and looked somberly at her dad. He had been working so hard over the last day to figure out what had happened to Barry, ever since he had first been taken.

“Okay, just let me know when you find out,” Joe said, “Thank you, Chad.”

When Joe hung up the phone, Iris gave him a questioning look.

“Officer Salverson has a cousin who works with the MRA,” Joe explained, “He’s not one of the inside men or anything, but he might be able to figure out what’s happening to Barry.”

“Do you think he can help us get him out?” Iris asked hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Joe said sadly, “Probably not, though.”

Iris sighed.

“Has anyone been released yet?” she asked hopefully.

“Not that anyone’s heard so far,” Joe told her, “They were saying on the news that over twelve-hundred people have been taken already.”

“Twelve- _hundred_!?” Iris said, appalled.

“And they’re still testing,” Joe said, nodding sadly, “According to what Barry said, there are a lot more metahumans out there yet. This is far from being over.”

Joe still had the news on in the background, and their attention was suddenly pulled toward the TV when they overheard a part of what the reporter on the screen was saying.

“…Officials have confirmed that the legislation has in fact gone through,” she said, “The new metahuman legislation was passed early yesterday morning, and has been in effect already for the last twenty-four hours. Although the details of the new act haven’t been fully released yet, our basic understanding of it is that the UN no longer recognizes metahumans as qualifying for the rights outlined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948. There have been multiple protests and—”

“What does that mean?” Iris asked her dad worriedly as the reporters continued to discuss the new controversial legislation.

When she looked over to her dad, she saw him standing there, glaring at the screen, his hands balled into fists.

“It means,” he said in a deep voice, “That the state no longer recognizes metahumans as being human.”

“So…?”

“So Barry just lost his human rights,” Joe said quietly.

* * *

“Are you ready to tell us what your power is?” the guard said upon entering Barry’s cell.

Barry glared up at him from his place on the floor. He still hadn’t been able to stand quite yet.

Whatever they had given him to knock him out was still having aftereffects on him. He had torn his bandage off, so he could feel the wound on the back of his neck for himself. It wasn’t that big, just a small incision just below the base of his skull. At least they had sutured it shut, but Barry thought he could feel something just below the skin there. It was hard to tell with all the swelling.

“What did you do to me?” Barry asked him, ignoring the man’s question.

The officer came forward then and struck Barry across the face.

“Answer me!” he yelled angrily, “Are you going to tell us your power?”

“No,” Barry growled, glaring up at him with a now split lip.

“I guess we’ll do this the hard way then,” he said, and without waiting for a reply, the guard suddenly grabbed Barry’s shoulder and yanked him up from his place on the ground.

Barry wobbled, still feeling woozy from the drugs he had been given, but another guard came forward and held him upright. Together the two guards led Barry from the room, his feet dragging as they pulled him along.

* * *

It was four full days after Barry had been taken before the first few metahumans were released. Joe was shocked. He had half-expected the MRA to go back on their word about releasing the metahumans that had been brought in for processing, which was why he was surprised when the news media was blowing up about the release of twelve individuals who had all originally been some of the first to turn themselves in to the MRA.

“All I had to do was cooperate,” one woman was saying, surrounded by reporters in front of her home, “There were some parts about the processing that I’d rather not discuss, but really, it wasn’t so bad. I’m a type two metahuman, so I don’t have any powers. I’m not sure if there’s a difference in the processing, though.”

“Can you tell us what they did during the processing?” one reporter asked curiously, shoving her microphone in the woman’s face.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” she said evasively, absently rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, “All I can say is that cooperating with the MRA made it all go smoother, and I encourage any metahuman who’s still out there to turn themselves in like I did.”

“That’s not her talking,” Joe said, causing Wally, Caitlin and Iris to look at him.

“Look at her eyes,” he said as the woman continued to answer the reporters’ questions on the screen, “She doesn’t believe what she’s saying. It’s all scripted. Someone told her to say all of this.”

“Gee, I wonder who,” Caitlin said angrily.

“It’s still a good sign, though,” Iris said hopefully, “The fact that they’re starting to release people. Hopefully they’ll release Barry soon, too.”

“Hopefully,” Joe said quietly, staring at the screen.

“Has Felicity found anything?” Iris asked Caitlin seriously.

“Not much,” Caitlin said regretfully, “She didn’t really find anything that can tell us what’s going on inside the MRA. She _did_ manage to find some of their employment records, though.”

“How does that help us?” Wally asked her.

“Well, it’s interesting,” Caitlin said, tapping away at her keyboard, “The MRA has employed a lot of military personnel, which is to be expected, but they’ve also employed a lot of people from Mercury Labs. Tech specialists, metahuman specialists, and…”

Caitlin bit her lip. The other three stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“And surgeons,” she finally said in a quiet voice.

“Surgeons?” Joe asked loudly, “What would they need surgeons for?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, “It can’t be anything good, though.”

Joe ran a palm over his face and sighed. He couldn’t take much more of this. He couldn’t take just sitting here, not knowing what was happening to Barry. He had tried everything he could think of. He had asked Singh for help, had made several calls to people who might know anything about the MRA. He had gone to the MRA headquarters every day, trying to get in to see Barry, but it was all to no avail. No one could get into the MRA. Their security was intense. It had to be, what with all the activists and protesters standing outside the building twenty-four seven.

A lot of people might not like metahumans, but that didn’t mean the new legislations didn’t disturb and outrage some people. After all, most of the metahumans who were currently under the MRA’s custody were like Barry. They had human friends and family members who cared about them and didn’t want to see their rights taken away. Really, it was only a matter of time before the legislation was overturned and the stupid Metahuman Regulation Agency was disbanded. At least, that’s what Joe kept telling himself was going to happen. He just hoped Barry would be alright until then.

…..

Barry’s entire body seemed to spasming and shivering from the cold, but he hardly noticed the discomfort. He was more focused on the way his lungs were screaming in protest from the lack of oxygen, the way the icy water was flooding his mouth and nose. He tried to stop himself, but soon the urge to inhale became too great, and Barry found himself sucking in water, his throat filling with the icy fluid.

His heart was racing from the panic of not being able to breathe, from the feeling of water seeping into his lungs. Barry’s consciousness was just starting to fade when suddenly the hand that was gripping his hair and holding him down pulled him up out of the basin of water.

Water spewed from Barry’s mouth and nose for a second or two before he sucked in a desperate inhalation of air. His lungs burned like fire as he took a second breath before coughing violently, water coming up and spraying out of his mouth as he tried to take in huge gulps of air. Before he could even remotely catch his breath, Barry’s head was being shoved under the surface of the water again.

This was worse than the beatings they had given him. It probably wasn’t as bad as the fingernail pulling had been, though. Really, the water torture wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for all of his previous injuries. Barry’s entire body was bruised and sore from everything they had done to him over the last four days, and the person who was holding his head under the water wasn’t exactly being gentle with him. The rough treatment aggravated his already existing injuries, including the still-healing surgical wound on his neck.

He wasn’t healing. He didn’t have his speed or any of his powers. The power-suppressing handcuffs that they had had on him before were now off, but he still didn’t have his powers. Barry didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand how they were still blocking his powers. It must have been something they had done to him when he was passed out, something to do with whatever it was they had put in his neck. The swelling had gone down now, and he could definitely tell that there was still something there. He could feel it, a small, hard object just beneath his skin. Barry had an intense urge to claw it out of him, but they had told him that doing so would probably kill him. Barry wasn’t sure if he believed them or not. They were probably just telling him that so he wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

When the man finally pulled him up again, he released Barry’s hair this time. Barry slumped forward onto his hands and knees, coughing continuously as he tried to expel the water from his lungs as air was desperately trying to get in. The man didn’t allow Barry much time to catch his breath before he was suddenly gripping Barry’s hair again, yanking him up so that Barry was upright on his knees. Barry took the deepest breath that he could manage, expecting to be dunked back under again, but thankfully the man spoke to him instead.

“Are you ready to cooperate?” he asked Barry angrily.

Barry smirked at him defiantly.

“No,” he gasped, the smile still on his face.

The man glowered at him angrily, and a second later, Barry’s head was under the water again, his lungs feeling like they were ready to burst.

* * *


	5. The List

**PLEASE READ A/N:**

**I can’t ignore this any longer and felt the need to finally address it. I’ve gotten quite a few negative comments for this story—mostly on ao3. I still plan to continue it because I owe it to myself and its readers to finish it. I just needed to write this message to make it clear to everyone that if you find sensitive topics like discrimination or genocide offensive, then this isn’t the story for you. I’m trying to write it in good taste, but this story will no doubt include some sensitive themes, and I’m truly sorry to those who have taken offense to it. My intention obviously wasn’t to offend or upset anyone.**

**I will readily admit now that some of the tags I originally used on ao3 for this story were inappropriate.**

**Yes, Barry is a white male. “Racism” was obviously not the right word for me to use in my tags, and I’ve changed them accordingly. He will, however, face discrimination for being a metahuman in this, so I think discrimination is an accurate tag to use.**

**It was definitely wrong for me to use the word “Holocaust” in my original description for this story. I realize now that by doing so, I’ve alienated a lot of people. Instead, I included the word “genocide” in the description because that is a broader term used to describe the oppression of any one group of people, not just Jewish.**

**Again, I’m sorry if my description offended anyone, and I’ll try to be more aware of the terms I use in the future. This is clearly a very sensitive story, and I’m trying my best to write it in a tasteful way.**

**That being said, those of you who are still with me, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**I should warn you now that this story only gets darker as you read it.**

* * *

**The List**

* * *

Over the next two weeks, more and more metahumans were being released, and at the same time, more were still being taken in for processing. It wasn’t until then that the horror stories started to get out, stories of what the MRA was actually doing to the metahumans they had managed to catch.

“Well, I guess we know what the surgeons are for now,” Caitlin said bitterly as she perused a report about the implantation devices that had been surgically inserted into each metahuman’s cervical spine.

They all had them. Every metahuman that had been released had a surgical wound on their neck where their microchip had been inserted. Also, metahumans with powers no longer seemed to have any control over them. Their powers were gone because of something the MRA did to them.

“It must be the implants,” Caitlin said to the others, “The microchips must be blocking their powers somehow.”

“How do they do that?” Joe asked incredulously.

“Mercury Labs,” Caitlin answered bitterly, “They’re more than capable of creating that kind of technology. Really, it was foolish of us not to consider that they might be researching metahumans. They must have been working on this for some time now.”

“What does this mean for Barry?” Joe asked fearfully.

“It means he won’t have his powers,” Caitlin said seriously, “And it means that he won’t be able to just run and leave town once he’s let out. I haven’t done much research yet, but I bet you anything that these implants also act as trackers. I’ll see if I can remove it once we get Barry back.”

 _If_ they got Barry back.

They were all thinking it. They were trying to stay optimistic, but the more people that got released while Barry remained in captivity, the less hope they had.

Every day, they went to the release gate by the MRA headquarters, waiting to see if Barry would be amongst the metahumans who were being let go that day. They weren’t the only ones. It seemed like hundreds of people were crowded near the gait every morning, hoping to be reunited with their loved ones. It was enough so that the MRA had to have an abundance of guards stationed outside the building to do crowd control.

At six AM every day, those gates would open, and Joe, Iris, Wally, and Caitlin would watch hopefully as a line of metahumans exited the building, blinking against the light as they were ushered forward by MRA officers. And every day they were disappointed when they realized that Barry wasn’t with them.

Officer Liddell had been released within a week. Joe had tried to ask him questions—if he had seen Barry in there, what kinds of things they did during the registration process—but the man seemed too afraid to talk about his experience with the MRA.

They knew from the stories that were coming out with the people being released that Barry was most likely suffering each day he spent there. Stories of torture and abuse were quickly spread throughout the city and on the news, and they could only imagine what was being done to Barry, who was no doubt fighting them. There was no way Barry was cooperating, no way that he was going to willingly tell them his true identity, and that was what was most likely taking him so long to be released.

One day, three weeks after Barry was taken, the MRA came out with an announcement notifying the citizens of Central City that an official list of death notifications would be released later that evening.

“Death notifications?” Iris said, going pale, “There have been deaths?”

“I thought all the deaths occurred when people fought back when they were being scanned and taken,” Wally said.

“Well, apparently there have been deaths _inside_ the MRA facilities, no doubt from metahumans fighting back after getting there,” Joe said darkly.

“Do you think Barry…?” Caitlin started to ask.

“I don’t know,” Joe said quietly, “He wasn’t resisting them when they led him away, but if all the horror stories of what they’re doing in there are true, there’s a good chance Barry is fighting back.”

“But what if they kill him?” Iris asked with tears in her eyes, “What if…what if they’ve already killed him?”

“We shouldn’t think that way just yet,” Joe said, although his voice didn’t sound very confident, “I’m sure Barry is fine.”

“I suppose we’ll find out tonight when they release the list,” Wally said darkly.

“I have to get going,” Joe said suddenly, “The CCPD has to help out at the MRA’s headquarters tonight. Apparently people are starting to riot.”

“And you’re supposed to _help_ the MRA?” Wally said incredulously.

Joe sighed.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said bitterly, “Trust me, a part of me wants to grab a picket sign and riot with them, but everyone from the CCPD has to go there to do crowd control. It’s all hands on deck tonight to make sure nobody gets hurt. I took an earlier shift so I would be back in time for when the list gets released. I should be home by eight.”

As Joe left, they all couldn’t help but think about how casually they were discussing the possibility that they might be finding out about Barry’s death tonight. It didn’t feel real to them just yet. None of this felt real. Even though it had been three weeks already, it was still hard to believe this was actually happening.

* * *

_Dexter Redlinn_

_Charles Agnew_

_Carl Belfort_

_Forrest Fischer_

The names went on and on, scrolling through at the bottom of the news screen as the list was released. Camera footage displayed on the screen showed the riots that were breaking loose outside the MRA. Footage of people protesting and screaming outside the building, breaking windows and fighting against the MRA officers, occupied the screen, all while the names continued scrolling across the bottom.

Iris, Wally, and Caitlin all sat in Joe’s living room, watching the screen anxiously, dreading that Barry’s name would appear amongst the list of deceased metahumans. Joe hadn’t been able to get off work in time for the list release like he had planned. The riots were more intense than anticipated, and without the CCPD’s help, the MRA no doubt would not have been able to handle it.

Joe had half a mind to just let the people express their anger—anger that he shared—to let them burn that MRA building to the fucking ground. But he knew to do so would be a disaster. People were going to get killed. Joe doubted whether the MRA had the authority to open fire on civilians—they were still human and had human rights—but that didn’t mean the MRA couldn’t do other things to control the crowd. Within a few hours of the list being released, the uproar from the protestors escalated to a point where the MRA resorted to using tear gas to thin the crowd.

Thankfully, the protesting seemed to die down after that, especially when the MRA started threatening to request military backup. Really, the MRA _was_ a part of the military, and they had endless men and resources at their disposal.

The protestors didn’t stand a chance.

When Joe finally got to go home, he probably broke several traffic laws just in his hurry to get home and find out the news.

“Did you see the list?” Joe asked them all urgently when he walked through the front door and joined them in the living room, “Is Barry…?”

“His name hasn’t come up so far,” Iris said, her eyes locked on the screen, “They’re going to be posting the full list online at midnight, but so far, it hasn’t come up on the news.”

Joe sighed in relief and then sat down on the couch next to them, his own eyes trained on the screen now. This was horrible. Sitting here, waiting to see if Barry’s name would appear on the screen. Joe couldn’t even imagine how awful it must be for some people, seeing their loved one’s name appear at the bottom of a news screen. That was not the way anyone should be notified of their loved one’s death. Joe tensed every time a name appeared on the screen, dreading that “Bartholomew Allen” would suddenly appear on the list. He didn’t know how the others had been doing this all night. The tension and suspense was already killing him.

At midnight they were finally able to access the complete list online. They scrolled through countless names, looking to see if Barry’s would be amongst them. They were shocked by the sheer number of names.

Two-hundred-and-thirty-one.

That’s how many people had been killed by the MRA. Two-hundred-and-thirty-one people were now dead because of this act. Just looking through the list made them all sick to their stomachs. They still felt sick even after verifying that Barry was not on the list. They felt guilty for being relieved, guilty for being happy that it was someone else’s name on the list instead of Barry’s. It was heartbreaking to think just how many people were mourning the loss of their loved ones tonight.

It was a sad night for Central City.

* * *

Over the next few days, the media blew up. Countless people spoke out against the heinous crimes committed by the MRA. Many people believed that what they were doing was murder, even though the people they had killed weren’t legally seen as human. After a few days of protesting and riots, Clinton Price finally came forward and gave a speech on the subject.

“The loss of any life, even a nonhuman one, is always regrettable,” he said somberly, “But we must remain strong. A few casualties are a small price to pay for our city’s safety. We need to keep in mind the countless _human_ lives we have saved now that those two-hundred-some metas are off the streets and their still-alive fellow metas are now under the Meta Regulation Agency’s control.”

As awful as it was, there were actually plenty of people who still agreed with Clinton Price. When interviewed, many people expressed similar opinions.

“The way I see it, those metas were already dead,” one man said in an interview, “They stopped being them the minute their DNA was contaminated by this meta plague. Their souls were long gone well before their hearts stopped beating, and all the MRA really did was put them out of their misery. If you ask me, we should do that for _all_ of the metas, purge our city of this illness.”

“Metas are an abomination,” one woman said angrily, “I don’t want to live with them in my city. They’re dangerous and they’re just not natural, and I’ll only feel safe once _all_ of them have been taken care of by the MRA.”

“I completely agree with the MRA’s methods. It may seem heartless, but it’s better than waiting for these people to go insane and wreak havoc on our city. The metas who were killed were all killed because they were fighting back against the MRA. That only shows that they had a capacity for violence and rebellion. The only way we can maintain control of these metas is to keep them on a short leash and to get rid of the ones who stir up trouble.”

“Personally, I wish the MRA would just finish off the rest of them,” one man said in frustration, “Instead, they’re releasing them. I think letting them go kind of defeats the purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish. We need to get rid of these people, not manage them.”

“On a side note,” the lead reporter said after the last interview, “The city can only speculate as to the whereabouts of the Flash. He seems to have disappeared right at the start of the metahuman processing, which leads most of us to believe that he must have also been apprehended by the MRA. Crime rates have now risen by eleven percent within the last month that this has been occurring. Meanwhile, Clinton Price—”

Joe turned off the TV. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t listen to the debates or the lies the MRA was feeding them. Barry had been gone for a full month, and none of them knew what to do anymore. The crowds were thinning. The majority of metahumans had been released now, and the number of people waiting outside the MRA building every morning became less and less. A few weeks ago, hundreds if not thousands of people were crowded outside the MRA, filling the streets for blocks. Now there were maybe a hundred or so people waiting outside the gates in the mornings.

Some were still protesting outside the building. Others, like them, were still waiting there for their loved ones to be released. The hopelessness and sadness was almost palpable amongst the crowd, and Team Flash felt it themselves. At this point they were simply waiting for Barry to either be released or for his name to appear on the death list that was updated every night. They were starting to lose hope that they would ever find out what had happened to Barry or if they would ever get him back.

None of them stopped going to the gates every morning, though. All four of them went to the MRA headquarters every day, hoping Barry would be released.

“Did you notice how much worse the people look now?” Wally said to them as they were waiting for the gates to open.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked.

“The metahumans that are being released now,” he elaborated, “They all look so rough, like the longer they spent in there, the worse shape they’re in when they come out.”

“It’s from the torture,” Iris said darkly, “From whatever the MRA does to them to get them to cooperate.”

“Barry’s holding out,” Joe said softly.

They all looked at him.

“Barry’s strong,” Joe said to them, “He’s holding out against the pain of whatever they’re doing to him. He’s fighting it.”

“I wish he’d just give in,” Iris said defeatedly, “If he just cooperates, he’ll probably be released sooner.”

“That is if they don’t kill him,” Caitlin said, “Once they find out he’s the Flash, they’re bound to kill him. That, or they’re simply not going to release him. Maybe that’s why they haven’t released him yet. Maybe they already know.”

“No,” Joe said, “No, if they knew, it would be all over the media. They would want the whole city to know that they managed to apprehend the Flash.”

Just then, the gates started to open, capturing everyone’s attention. Several guards moved forward to keep the crowd of waiting friends and family in check. Everyone stood by the gate, craning their heads to see the line of metahuman prisoners who were being led out of the building. Wally was right. They were in really rough shape now. Some of them looked like they could barely walk. One of the metahumans stumbled and fell to the ground as they were being led out into the daylight. A guard roughly lifted him from the ground.

“On your feet!” he growled at the metahuman, who simply glowered back at him as he found his place back in line.

“That’s Barry!” Iris said suddenly as she watched him struggled to remain on his feet in the line.

“Oh my God,” Caitlin cried, shocked to actually see Barry exiting the MRA building.

They had been starting to lose hope that he would ever be released.

They could tell that Barry was hurting just by looking at him, the way he limped as he shuffled his way through the gates, the way he kept one hand clutched to his side, which was clearly injured, the way he grimaced with each step he took.

They all rushed forward with the other people who had spotted their loved ones being released, swarming the metahumans that were being released by the guards at the end of the gate. It took them a while to find Barry amongst the crowd. When they did, though, Barry burst into tears at the sight of them, a sob escaping his lips as Joe wrapped his arms around him.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” Barry said to them, his voice sounding incredibly hoarse and raspy.

“So did we,” Caitlin admitted, “We’ve come here every day, though, waiting for you to be released.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Iris cried, flinging her arms around Barry.

Barry winced but hugged her back.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, pulling away, “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

She looked him over then, looked over the dirty, bloodstained prison-like uniform he was wearing, taking in how thin he looked and the scrapes and bruises that covered his skin.

“ _Are_ you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” he said tiredly, “All I need is a shower and some decent food, and I’ll be fine.”

“Come on,” Caitlin said, putting a hand on his back, “We’ll take you to STAR Labs, get you looked at.”

Barry stood his ground, though, and didn’t allow her to lead him back to the car.

“No,” he said.

They all looked at him in shock.

“Barry,” Caitlin said painfully, “You’re clearly injured. You have to let me treat your wounds.”

“I don’t want to go to STAR Labs,” Barry said firmly in his raspy voice, “I want to go home. Please, just let me go home.”

They all exchanged looks with each other before Joe stepped forward and put his hand on Barry’s shoulder. Barry winced at the touch and Joe pulled his hand away quickly.

“Okay, Bar,” he said gently, “We’ll take you home. Caitlin can treat you there. Right, Caitlin?”

Caitlin didn’t look like she loved the idea, but she nodded nonetheless.

Barry seemed completely exhausted yet on edge as he rode home in the car. He seemed like he wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he was too jumpy and nervous to. He didn’t say a word as they drove home, aside from coughing a few times, a deep nasty cough that was miserable just to hear.

Caitlin rode in the back seat with him, holding his hand and rubbing soothing circles into the back of it with her thumb. It was then that she realized Barry didn’t have any fingernails on either of his hands. They looked like they had been roughly pulled out with a pliers. It had to have happened a week or two ago because most of them were just starting to grow back. It looked extremely painful, and Caitlin felt her stomach churning as she looked at his fingers.

She visually looked him over for any other injuries as they rode home. His hair was matted with blood and filth, and his skin seemed to have the same blood and grime covering it. It was hard to tell what his injuries looked like underneath all the filth covering him. It was no wonder Barry’s first request was to take a shower. They clearly had neglected him as far as hygiene went, and it was probably safe to say they withheld quite a bit of food from him, judging by how thin he looked underneath the baggy prison clothes he was wearing.

Barry looked so drained as he rode in the car. He was so exhausted and had clearly been through so much that he couldn’t even smile now that he was free. He stared blankly ahead, clearly just anxious to get home.

A small smile formed on his lips when they pulled up to the house, though, and Caitlin thought she maybe even saw more tears in his eyes as the house came in sight. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, going home after spending a month in the MRA’s custody.

“I’m going to get out of these clothes and shower,” Barry said as soon as they were in the house, and he started walking towards the bathroom door.

Caitlin went with him.

"Barry, you just seem a little weak and shaky,” she said, “I’m going to come in to help you if that’s alright, and I’ll look you over when you’re undressed.”

Barry didn’t argue. He just nodded tiredly and allowed her to go into the room with him as Iris went off to grab him a fresh pair of clothes.

Caitlin decided a bath would probably be better for Barry since he looked dead on his feet, and it would easier for him than standing in the shower would be. She started the water so the tub could fill for him and then turned to find Barry already undressing, no doubt anxious to get those horrible clothes off him.

As Barry exposed his torso, Caitlin had to fight the urge to gasp. He was covered in cuts and bruises, some of them looking fresh, others yellowing with age. He had clearly lost a lot of weight. He wasn’t a skeleton or anything, but he was a lot thinner than he had been when he was taken by the MRA. Barry’s face was black and blue, one of his eyes swollen, and his lip split. They had really done a number on him.

And then Caitlin noticed his shoulders. They were extremely uneven, one of them slumping down in a very unnatural way. It was no wonder why Barry winced when Joe put his hand on his shoulder earlier.

It was dislocated.

“Barry, I’ll have to fix your shoulder,” she said quietly, stepping forward to palpate it.

She could tell by feeling it that it had been dislocated for a while now, judging by how far down the joint had shifted, no doubt from him using the injured arm.

“Later,” he said quietly, gently shifting away from her touch before reaching for his pants.

As he bent down to remove them, Caitlin caught a glimpse of the back of his neck. He had an incision there, just like the rest of the metahumans. Before she could inspect it closer, though, Barry was already moving towards the tub.

He didn’t even seem embarrassed about being naked in front of her. She was his doctor, but she had still expected it to be a bit awkward since they were also friends. But Barry wasn’t awkward about it at all. He didn’t even seem to care. He walked, unabashed, towards the tub, just anxious to be clean again, his mind entertaining little else. He sighed as he sank down into the water, letting the warmth envelope him. Caitlin left the room after that, deciding to let Barry enjoy the bath in peace.

When she left the bathroom and walked into the living room, it was to find Joe, Iris, and Wally waiting for her.

“How is he?” Wally asked.

“He’s weak,” Caitlin said sadly, “And a little roughed up, but he should be okay. I’ll have to reset his shoulder, and a few of his fingers will need to be splinted where they were broken. I have to cleanse and stitch up a few of his cuts too. Some of them look like they might be infected.”

“He’s not healing now, is he?” Iris asked worriedly.

“No,” Caitlin said, “but he should heal alright. It’s just going to take longer.”

“Did he say anything about what happened to him in there?” Joe asked nervously, “How did he get released? Did he tell them he was the Flash?”

“I haven’t asked him any of that yet,” she answered, “He seems exhausted. I think we should just let him rest and eat while I treat his injuries before we ask him for details.”

“He’s clearly been through hell,” Joe said sadly, looking at the closed bathroom door, “He might not want to talk about it right away.”

“We won’t press him,” Iris said, “We’ll give him time to adjust first.”

Barry stayed in the bathroom for quite some time. When he finally emerged from the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes on, he looked a lot cleaner, his wet hair free of dirt, and his skin free of blood and filth. The cuts and bruises looked even worse now, though, without the grime covering them.

“Here, Barry,” Iris said gently, leading him to the dining room table, where she had a bowl of pasta waiting for him, “Sit down here and eat while Caitlin takes care of your cuts.”

Barry hardly paid Caitlin any mind as she was stitching him up. She was able to numb the area before stitching it, so he barely felt a thing. He probably wouldn’t have felt it anyways, not just because his pain tolerance was extremely high now, but also because he was too focused on the food in front of him to care about anything else.

They had given him small amounts of food in the facility but not nearly enough to keep him well nourished. The small meals they gave him every other day or so were almost cruel. They were just enough to keep him going and to keep his stomach growling twenty-four seven. No food at all almost would have been better. At least then his hunger pains would have eventually diminished with time. Giving him small, occasional meals, however, was like a way for them to tease him.

Barry wanted nothing more than to scarf down the whole bowl of pasta in front of him, but he knew that would be bad for his stomach, and he had more control than that, so instead, he ate it slowly while holding out his left arm for Caitlin to stitch up a cut that was on it.

“Barry,” Joe said gently when Barry was almost done with his food, “Can you tell us what happened? How much did you tell them?”

Barry put down his fork and chewed slowly as he thought about what to say.

“They weren’t going to let me go until they knew what my power was,” he said quietly, “So I told them my power.”

“You told them you have superspeed?” Iris asked, sitting down at the table with him, “You told them you were the Flash, and they just let you go?”

“No,” Barry said, “I didn’t tell them about my superspeed.”

They all frowned at him.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, “What did you tell them then?”

“I told them my power was accelerated healing,” Barry said.

Joe’s eyebrows furrowed at him.

“And they just took your word for it?” he asked in confusion.

Barry shook his head.

“No,” he whispered, “I had to prove it.”

“How?” Caitlin asked, “If you had your powers…why didn’t you just run then?”

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

“They had a special room,” he said quietly, “My powers worked, but if I had tried to leave the room…”

Barry shook his head.

“The point is, I was able to prove it to them,” he said, “I was able to show them my healing abilities without them learning what my true abilities were. It was the only thing I could think to do.”

“That’s brilliant,” Iris said, “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Yeah, well, I had a lot of time to think it over,” Barry said quietly.

Iris frowned at him then and gave him another once-over with her eyes.

“What did they all do to you, Barry?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t really want to discuss it,” Barry said in a flat voice, “It’s over now. It doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter, Bar,” Joe said sadly, “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. We understand.”

Barry nodded.

“Okay, Barry, I’m going to take care of your shoulder now,” Caitlin said nervously, moving closer to stand next to Barry’s left side.

“Alright,” Barry said, allowing her to take his arm in both her hands.

He didn’t look away. In fact, he barely reacted at all as she got ready to pop it back into place. On the count of three, Caitlin gave his arm a firm tug and the joint found its way back into its socket with a sickening pop. Everyone in the room winced at the sound, but Barry didn’t yell out. He gritted his teeth and flinched slightly, but he handled it surprisingly well.

“All done,” Caitlin said soothingly as she put his arm in a sling.

She splinted his fingers next, cracking the broken ones into place and applying braces to his hand to keep them in line.

“What is this?” she asked, when she found the design on the back of his hand.

It looked like…

“A barcode,” Joe said, looking at the tattoo they had etched on Barry’s right hand.

Barry pulled the hand out of Caitlin’s grasp.

“It’s how they identify us,” he answered quietly, “They scan it and they get all of our information.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment or two as they thought that over.

“Here, Barry,” Caitlin said, taking his arm again to finish splinting his hand.

She could tell Barry didn’t really want to talk about the barcode, so she decided to move on with her treatments.

“How long have you had that cough, Barry?” Caitlin asked as Barry finished coughing for the sixth time since she started.

It sounded nasty, a harsh wheezing sound coming from his airway every time he coughed.

Barry shrugged.

“A few weeks,” he answered in his raspy voice.

Caitlin listened to his lung sounds with a stethoscope then, telling him to take deep breaths as she pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back. The deep breathing seemed to trigger his cough reflex, though, and it sent Barry into another coughing fit.

“You have fluid in your lungs,” Caitlin said, frowning at him.

Barry didn’t seem surprised by this information, though. He simply looked at her, his eyes watering from coughing so much. Caitlin was suddenly struck by a horrible thought.

“Barry…” she said gently, “Did they use water torture on you?”

Barry looked down at his lap.

He nodded. Joe made an angry sound from behind him, but no one said anything.

“Alright,” Caitlin said quietly after a moment, patting his knee, “I’m going to start you on a course of antibiotics. It’s likely you have pneumonia from all the fluid that got into your lungs.”

Barry nodded tiredly.

It took her a while, but Caitlin got the rest of Barry’s injuries stitched and cleaned up. She gave Barry an injection of Levofloxacin to treat his pneumonia and his infected wounds, and then they allowed him to finally go to bed. The look on Barry’s face when he finally sank back against the soft pillows was a look of pure bliss and relief. He was asleep within minutes.

They all knew this wasn’t over, though. Barry was released, which had them all extremely relieved, but they knew there would be more hard times to come. The MRA was only just getting started in their persecution of metahumans, and there would no doubt be more hardships to face before all of this came to end. For now, though, they could rest a little easier.

For now, Barry was home.

* * *

**Please share your thoughts! Positive or negative. Unlike what certain people have said, I never delete negative comments on my stories. I appreciate any feedback, and I am grateful that my insensitivities were brought to my attention.**

* * *

 


	6. Freak Stamps

* * *

  **Freak Stamps**

* * *

Barry was sick for quite a while after being released from the MRA facility. He was on bedrest for three days as his body attempted to fight off the pneumonia and several infected wounds that covered his body. Caitlin was worried he would go septic if the antibiotic treatments didn’t kick in fast enough, but thankfully, his fever broke by the third day, and although he was still very sick, Barry was past the worst of it and was able to be out of bed for longer periods of time.

It took longer for the rest of his wounds to heal, though. Even a week later, Barry was still walking with a limp, and his arm was still in a sling as it healed. He was really missing his healing abilities right about now. It wasn’t his wounds that were the most bothersome for him, though. It was dealing with everything he had been through. Barry wasn’t really himself in that first week back at home and understandably so.

He didn’t really tell them the details of the torture that had been inflicted on him, but they could guess and speculate. Caitlin could tell just by some of his injuries that some horrific things had been done to him in his month of captivity. Barry insisted he was fine and just needed time to heal. They could tell he was still shaken, though.

Overall, however, they were impressed with how well Barry was handling it. He didn’t seem scared or post-traumatic in any way. If anything, Barry seemed…sad. He was quiet and sullen as he healed from his injuries. He seemed sad over everything that had happened to him, yet relieved beyond belief to be home again.

All Barry really wanted was to move on.

“Can you remove it?” Barry asked as he sat in a chair in the cortex at STAR Labs and Caitlin inspected the site on the back of his neck where they had implanted his microchip.

“It looks surprisingly well-healed,” Caitlin said, “Whatever surgeon inserted it, they knew what they were doing.”

“Yeah, but can you remove it?” Barry asked impatiently.

“We’ll see, Barry,” she said quietly, “I’ve been looking into these microchips. A lot of metahumans have been going to hospitals and clinics to get them removed, but it’s illegal to tamper with them.”

“So no doctors will help?” Iris asked incredulously.

“Most of them aren’t willing to risk their license or do jail time for it,” she said, “And even those who are willing to help don’t really know how to. From all the scans I’ve taken, the chips look like they are intentionally inserted in a way that makes them tricky to remove without causing serious nerve damage or death. I don’t think even some of the top surgeons in the country would go near it.”

“But you can get it out,” Barry said flatly, “You can get it out of me.”

“I don’t know Barry,” Caitlin said unsurely, “It’s not just some tiny chip. It’s a complicated device that’s practically wrapped around your spinal cord and brain stem. Chances are, it’s inoperable.”

“I don’t accept that,” Barry said immediately, “If it can be put in, it can be taken out.”

“Barry, I’m sure there’s a way to remove them, but I’m saying I don’t know _how_ ,” Caitlin said desperately, “I’ve figured out four different ways I could try to remove it, but since I don’t know how the device works, chances are I won’t choose the right way and I’ll end up either killing you or paralyzing you.”

“I can’t keep this thing in me,” Barry said desperately, “Please, Caitlin. I know this isn’t as simple as removing a bullet from my shoulder, but I need you to do it. I need you to remove it for me.”

Everyone looked around at each other, not sure what to say.

“Barry,” Caitlin said in a strained voice, “The risks.”

“I don’t care about the risks,” Barry said firmly, “I’ll take the risks if it means getting rid of it. You don’t understand. This thing does a lot more than just suppress my powers.”

“I know, Barry,” she said, “It’s a tracker, too. I know you lose your freedom with this chip in, but…”

“It has an internal electrode,” Barry said flatly.

Caitlin’s eyes widened.

“What?” Wally asked, “Like to deliver an electric shock?”

Barry nodded, his eyes darkening.

“It’s how they stopped me from fighting back,” he said quietly, “And ultimately, it’s how they…”

“Got you to talk,” Iris finished quietly for him.

They all looked at the floor, sickened by what Barry was telling them.

“Can you disable it?” Joe asked Caitlin desperately, “Maybe we don’t even have to remove it. We can just disable it.”

“I can’t do that without access to the MRA’s data frame that they use to control the devices,” Caitlin answered, “I already have Felicity on it. She’s working hard, trying to hack into the MRA’s database, but they have military grade firewalls protecting it. It’s going to take her a while to disarm it.”

“I can’t wait,” Barry said impatiently, “I want the damn thing out of me now.”

“I know, Barry,” Caitlin said sympathetically, “But we can’t just—”

“No, you _don’t_ know Caitlin,” Barry gritted, “You don’t have this thing in your body.”

“Barry,” Caitlin said gently, “I know you’re scared, but—”

“Of course I’m scared!” Barry yelled, “I’m fucking _terrified_! These people have complete control over me now. I have no freedom now, no rights. And these people are serious. They’ve already killed over two hundred metahumans!”

“We’re not going to let them take you again, Bar,” Joe said sadly.

“What are you going to do to stop them?” Barry asked, fearful tears welling in his eyes, “Tell me, Joe. Who’s going to stop them? The CCPD? The Flash? No one can do anything to stop this now.”

They all looked sadly at Barry, so openly terrified, laying all his fears out on display for them to see.

“What happened to doing whatever it takes to fix this?” Iris asked him sadly, “That’s what you’ve been saying since all of this started.”

“That was before I spent a month in that terrible place,” Barry said brokenly, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be brave, but I don’t have my powers anymore. I’m vulnerable now. These people can hurt me. They _have_ hurt me, and God knows what else they’re planning to do.”

They all wanted to argue. They wanted to say something hopeful, something to contradict Barry’s hopelessness, but none of them could think of anything reassuring to say. Barry was right. There wasn’t much anyone could do at this point.

* * *

Barry was nervous about returning to work. Joe and Singh both assured him that he didn’t have to. Even Officer Liddell hadn’t returned to work yet, and he had only been in the facility for a week. But Barry insisted. He needed to feel normal again, wanted to work and pretend like none of this was happening. Like everything was back to the way it was before.

It was hard walking into the CCPD that first day. Everyone stared at him as he entered the building, and Barry thought back to the day he was taken by the MRA while he was at work. He remembered the looks on all of their faces. They didn’t give him the same shocked looks now as they had then. Instead, they looked at him with curiosity. Joe had warned Barry that there would be a lot of questions for him to face when he returned to work, and he found himself overwhelmed with the curiosity his coworkers now had for him.

At least fifteen different people must have asked him what his power was. Barry told them it was healing. Might as well, right? That was what his official metahuman file said, and those files were public records now. Anyone could access it. Just like anyone could scan the barcode on his wrist. It was a simple phone app now called MetaScanner. Barry had downloaded the app and scanned himself just to see what information came up on it, and it was sickening just how much they had about him on there. His social security number, personal information, photo ID, everything. His profile said that he was a type one meta, classified as highly dangerous just because he was a power-possessing meta, making him prone to emotional outbursts and mental instability. Meta Ability: Accelerated Healing Factor.

The worst part was that if someone wanted to scan him, Barry couldn’t refuse. Any person at any time could come up to him and demand to scan his wrist, and Barry would legally have to comply. So far, that hadn’t happened yet, but the fact that it could made Barry sick to his stomach.

People didn’t even have to scan him to look him up in the database. The entire thing was accessible online on the MRA’s website. Barry never felt more exposed in his life. Within a week, he transferred all his banking accounts so they were in Joe’s name. He didn’t know what would happen to his finances otherwise. Could the MRA repossess them from him? Really, anyone could, now that his sensitive information was out for the whole world to access.

His coworkers all treated him differently now. Most weren’t necessarily treating him worse—just different. There were a handful of coworkers he had who wouldn’t even look at him, though. They treated him like he was some sort of freak and refused to talk to him and work with him as their CSI. Barry had even heard one of them complaining to Singh about the fact that he was there.

“We’re supposed to be protecting the city from metas, and we have one _working_ for us?!” he asked Singh incredulously.

“Mr. Allen has always been extremely good at his job,” Barry heard Singh say, “You never had a problem with him before.”

“Yeah, that’s before I knew he was a meta freak,” Officer Couture spat, “I won’t work with him.”

“Well, then you’re going to have a hard time closing your cases without a forensics expert,” Singh responded flatly.

“I thought you were going to hire that one CSI kid as a replacement,” the officer said, “Belfort was his name.”

“He’s dead,” Singh said flatly, “Turns out he was a metahuman, too, and he was killed during the registration period.”

“Jeez, is there anyone left in this city who _isn’t_ a meta?” Couture complained, “These freaks are everywhere now.”

“Officer Couture, I will not tolerate this kind of biased attitude in my department,” Singh said firmly, “Barry is an employee here just as much as anyone else, and he will be treated with the same respect as any other person in this building. The fact that Barry is a metahuman doesn’t affect his ability to do his job.”

“You’re really going to keep an unstable meta working here at the CCPD?” he asked.

“I assure you, Officer Couture, I’m quite stable,” Barry said suddenly, entering the captain’s office, while glaring the other man down.

Officer Couture blinked at him for a moment, taken off guard to have Barry, himself, entering the heated conversation. He didn’t seem the least bit abashed at having been overheard, though.

“You’re a filthy meta,” Couture spat, “And I don’t associate myself with meta scum like you.”

“Funny,” Barry said quietly, “You didn’t have a problem with me a few months ago when I helped you close the Ortiz case. Or last year, for that matter, when you invited me to your daughter’s sixth birthday party.”

“And it makes me sick to my stomach that I ever let you anywhere near my kid,” Office Couture said with disgust, “You have no business being here, working in law enforcement when you’re a corrupt meta freak. You’re just like the rest of them, just like all the other meta pieces of shit we’ve been trying to get off the streets.”

“So all metahumans are scum?” Barry asked him, “We’re all the same? We’re all corrupt and evil?”

“Yes,” Couture said harshly.

“What about the Flash?” Barry asked, “I suppose you think he’s evil, too.”

“The Flash _is_ evil,” Officer Couture, “Anyone who watches the news can tell you that.”

Barry sighed angrily.

“I could argue metahuman politics with you all day, Tom, but I can see you’re never going to change your mind about this, especially if you’re the type of person to foolishly believe everything you hear on the news.”

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time talking to a lower class being like yourself anyways,” Officer Couture spat, “It’s not like you’re human.”

“Tom!” the captain shouted angrily, but the officer ignored him.

With that, he stormed out of the office, leaving Barry to stew in his words. Barry tried not to let the words hurt him, but that was somewhat hard to do, especially when they were coming from someone whom he had always considered himself to be on good terms with. He had known the other man for years, and now the guy thought he was the scum of the earth, just because he had different DNA.

“Barry,” Captain Singh said gently, “Don’t let him get to you. Most people here don’t have any problem with you being here. Don’t let the naïve opinions of one ignorant ass get you down.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me, sir,” Barry said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady, “And for letting me work here.”

With that, Barry also left the office.

* * *

His workplace wasn’t the only place where Barry had faced discrimination for being a metahuman. There were plenty of other places in the city where he had the same problem. Strangers on the street took one look at the barcode on his wrist and gave him dirty looks. Freak stamps, they were calling them now. It was like a social brand that Barry couldn’t hide. Covering up a barcode was prohibited, and any metahumans who were caught trying to hide their barcodes faced serious consequences with the MRA.

Barry had been called dirty names by several strangers over the course of the next few weeks. Many taxi drivers had refused to drive him. Taking the bus was downright unpleasant considering the looks he got from some fellow passengers. Some people looked at him with disgust, others with fear, as if he was going to attack one of them at any moment. He’d never forget this one day when a woman pulled her child back from him, and he heard her whisper, “You see that man with the freak stamp on his hand? You stay away from people like that. They’re dangerous.”

Barry had taken to walking most places he went now. He missed his speed. He missed his freedom not only to run, but also to walk down the street without being glared at and called ugly names. He wanted his life back.

The worst was when it happened when he was with someone else. One day, Barry was sitting at Jitters with Iris. She had been urging him to go out in public as much as possible, and Barry had reluctantly agreed to getting a coffee with her. The two of them were just sitting there, minding their own business when a group of teenage boys came up to them, surrounding their table.

Iris looked nervously around at all of them.

“Can we help you?” she asked irritably.

“Wrist,” one boy said flatly, looking at Barry.

“W-what?” Barry stammered.

“Your wrist, give me your wrist,” the boy demanded, pulling out his phone with the metascanner app.

“Don’t, Barry,” Iris said angrily, glaring at the punk.

“Do it now, or I’ll report you to the MRA,” the boy threatened.

The teenagers all snickered. It was all just a game to them. They clearly got a kick out of scanning unsuspecting metahumans.

Barry sighed and held out his wrist.

“Barry, no,” Iris said angrily.

“I have to,” Barry whispered to her.

He glared at the grinning teenager in front of him. Barry had had worse. These kids weren’t a serious threat. They just liked the feeling of power they got when they went up to an adult and forced him to do what they said. They thought it was _cool_.

The boy grabbed Barry’s hand and passed the scanner over it.

“Ew, you _touched_ him,” one of the boys snickered.

Barry blushed, feeling extremely embarrassed to have this happening in front of Iris. Iris, however, was glaring furiously at the group of boys taunting Barry.

“Accelerated healing factor,” the boy said then, looking at his phone.

“Like Deadpool?” one of the boys said, causing all of them to laugh.

“Okay, you got your scan,” Iris said furiously, “Leave us alone now.”

“We’ll leave when we want to, lady,” one of them sneered, “It’s a free country, and he’s not human, so we can do what we want.”

“He _is_ human,” Iris said venomously, “He’s—”

“Iris,” Barry said quietly, his face bright red, “Just let it go. They’re just kids.”

Iris let out an angry sigh and turned back to them.

“ _I’m_ human,” she said, her voice shaking in anger, “I’m human, and if you don’t leave now, I’ll call the police for harassment.”

“Alright, calm down, lady,” the kid laughed, “We’re just poking fun. You can get back to your date with the stitch neck in a minute.”

Barry’s blush deepened. “Stitch neck” was a new phrase that was being used for metahumans now—referring to the incisions on the backs of their necks.

“This isn’t just ‘poking fun,’” Iris said furiously, “What you’re doing isn’t _cool_ or _funny_. It’s sick.”

“No, what’s sick is that you actually want to be around this freak,” one kid teased, “Do you kiss him, too? Let him fuck you? Let him infect you with his filth?”

“That’s enough!” Barry said angrily, standing up from his chair as he finally lost his temper, “Get out of here _now_!”

“No, _you_ get out of here,” one kid snapped.

In an instant, he threw his entire cup of hot coffee in Barry’s face. Barry gasped and stumbled back as the scorching hot liquid scalded his skin. It took everything he had to reach out and stop Iris from lunging out at them.

“You little bastards!” she shouted, causing everyone in the small coffee shop to look at them.

“You need to put that meta on a leash,” one of the laughed as they walked away.

Barry continued to hold Iris back, knowing she was ready to wipe the smug grins off the kids’ faces.

“Iris they’re just kids,” Barry said calmly.

After the kids had left the small coffee shop, Iris stopped trying to fight him. Barry felt her slump in his arms, and he quickly released her. Iris turned around to look at him.

“Are you okay?” she choked, tears in her eyes as she looked at his face.

Barry could hardly keep his eyes open as he reached up and touched his cheek. It was going to blister. He knew it.

“I’m fine,” he assured her, “They’re just a couple dumb kids. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“This isn’t your fault, Barry,” she said, her breath hitching as tears started to roll down her face, “It’s mine. I’m the one who made you come here.”

Barry shook his head.

“You were just trying to help me,” he said quietly.

He glanced around them then. Everyone in Jitters was staring curiously at them. They had made quite a scene.

“Let’s get out of here,” Iris said, gently taking his arm.

Barry nodded and proceeded to let Iris lead him out of Jitters. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to set foot in the place again.

* * *

Things seemed to die down with the MRA for a while after the registration and processing was complete. Most metahumans simply tried to move on with their lives, tried to forget. That was hard to do, though, when you were essentially branded a freak for the rest of your life.

Joe, Wally, and Iris tried to make things seem like normal again. They didn’t treat Barry any differently, and they still did all of their normal family game nights and dinners. When Iris’s birthday came, they all decided to go out to eat to celebrate. Iris thought it was exactly what they needed, just a nice night out together as a family. They were less likely to be bothered by anyone when they were there as a group. Joe was intimidating enough to keep away any haters who might come around to pester Barry for the barcode on his wrist. When they were walking into the restaurant, however, Barry suddenly stopped in his tracks before he reached the door.

 “Barry?” Iris asked, turning to look at him, wondering why he had stopped a few feet from the entrance.

“Umm,” Barry said, looking uncomfortable, “I’m sorry, Iris. I’m suddenly not feeling very well. I don’t think I’m up for dinner tonight.”

“You’re not feeling well?” Iris asked in concern, stepping closer to him.

“No,” Barry said, “I think I’m going to go home and get some rest. You guys go ahead. Don’t let me spoil the night for you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just come in and sit with us, Barry?” Iris asked, “You don’t have to order anything. You could just sit with us.”

Barry shook his head.

“No, that’s okay. I—”

“Iris,” Joe said quietly, nudging his daughter.

He pointed to the sign just outside the door.

_No Meta ~~human~~ s Allowed_

Iris fumed when she saw it, especially disgusted to see that the “human” part of metahuman had been crossed out, creating the new prejudice slur that had become so popular now: calling metahumans simply metas.

Iris then looked back towards Barry, who was blushing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t want to ruin your birthday dinner. I’ll just go home. You guys can still—”

“Barry, you’re crazy if you think we’re going to go out to eat without you,” Iris said firmly, “Especially at a place like this.”

She stomped towards the car.

“Come on,” she said to the other three, “We’ll go somewhere else to eat. This place is a dump anyways.”

Barry felt so guilty and embarrassed. He knew she was only saying that for his benefit. It had always been her favorite restaurant. He felt terrible that they couldn’t go there now because of what he was.

A similar thing happened at the next place they went to. There wasn’t a big sign on the front door like the last place, so they thought it was okay to go in. The second Barry walked through the front door, though, a loud beeping sound took them by surprise.

“Our security scanner picked up that one of you is a meta,” the hostess said to them.

Her eyes flickered to the barcode on the back of Barry’s hand. She looked at him then when she spoke.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We have a strict no metahumans policy.”

Barry didn’t think he’d ever been more embarrassed in his life.

“It’s okay, Barry,” Wally assured him as he buried his face in his hands while they rode in the back seat of the car, “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

They ended up going to some crappy diner. It was literally the only place they went to that didn’t have a sign in the front or a scanner at the door to keep metahumans away. Barry felt terrible. It was Iris’s birthday, and they couldn’t even go out to a decent restaurant to celebrate, all because of him and what he was. A part of him really wished they had just let him go home and went out to eat without him rather than let him spoil everything. He had never felt more ashamed of what he was than he did in that moment.

* * *

When Barry was in line one day at the DMV to get his new ID—metahumans weren’t allowed to drive—he came across several educational pamphlets near the front desk. He glared at the labels on the covers of the pamphlets.

_Why Microchipped Metas are Still a Threat_

_The Dangers of Reproducing with Metas_

_Meta Alert Devices Now Available!_

The pamphlets were no doubt issued by the MRA, and in no time, they seemed to be everywhere in the city. Barry had even seen a few commercials for meta alert devices on TV. The discrimination he faced only seemed to get worse after that.

Barry was standing next to Joe’s desk one day at work when the captain suddenly approached him.

“Barry, can I have a word with you in my office please?” the captain asked, his expression somewhat somber.

Joe and Barry exchanged a brief look of confusion before Barry nodded, following the captain back to his office. He couldn’t help but notice the sad looks his coworkers were giving him as he walked past them.

They knew something.

When they entered Singh’s office, the captain closed the door and asked Barry to sit down before sitting down himself. Barry could feel all his coworkers’ eyes on them through the glass window of Singh’s office, and it only made him more nervous to find out why the captain had called him in here. He had a horrible feeling in his gut.

“Barry, you’re an amazing CSI,” the captain said quietly.

“Thank you,” Barry said, his mouth dry.

He knew where this was heading, had almost been waiting for it to happen for weeks now.

“I want you to know that this has nothing to do with your performance at work,” the captain said painfully, struggling to find the right words.

“You’re letting me go,” Barry said quietly.

The captain nodded sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Barry,” he said, and he sounded like he actually meant it, “The MRA passed a legislation this morning, limiting the career areas that metahumans are allowed to be employed in. Naturally, law enforcement was one of their restrictions.”

“But I don’t enforce the law,” Barry said quickly, “I only investigate crime scenes.”

“I’ve discussed it with several MRA officials,” Singh told him, “They said I had until the end of the day to terminate your position here. I’m so sorry.”

Barry leaned forward in his chair and braced his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands with a deep sigh. He could still feel all his coworkers watching him through the window, and it made the experience ten times worse.

“I understand,” he said through his fingers, “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either, Barry,” Singh said softly, “I know you didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

Barry nodded, and looked up from his hands.

“Thank you,” he said, “For giving me a chance. I know a lot of metahumans lost their jobs a long time ago already. I appreciate you trying to keep me around for this long.”

“Of course,” Singh said, “You’re a good employee, Barry, even if you’re not always on time. You always get things done in your own way. Everyone here at the CCPD is going to miss you.”

“Not everyone,” Barry said bitterly, thinking of Officer Couture and all the other coworkers who had barely spoken to him since it came out that he was a metahuman.

“Don’t worry about the opinions of a bunch of ignorant bastards,” Singh said firmly, a hint of anger in his voice, “Barry, you walk out of here with your head held high. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel ashamed for who you are.”

Barry gave the captain a sad smile as he stood up from his chair on weak legs, trying to ignore the crushing despair he felt surrounding his heart. He had always loved his job.

“Thank you, sir,” Barry said, shaking the captain’s hand.

And then he did exactly what the captain told him to do. He walked out of the precinct with his head held high. He didn’t look at any of his coworkers as he left, aside from one painful glance at Joe. He didn’t let any of them see his shame or embarrassment. No, he waited until he was at least a block away from the CCPD before he let himself completely break down.

* * *


	7. Metahunters

**Warning: Graphic depictions of violence in this chapter—and definitely in chapters to come.**

* * *

**Metahunters**

* * *

Singh gave Barry a very agreeable severance pay, no doubt because he felt guilty. Barry didn’t really care about the money, though. He just wanted his job back. He wanted his life back to the way it was. Being unemployed just gave him more time to reflect on everything that was happening, everything that was going wrong.

To say that Barry spiraled into a depression would maybe be a tad much, but he most definitely wasn’t his usual chipper self. He stopped going out in public, tired of being glared at everywhere he went, tired of the comments people made about him and sometimes right to his face. He searched for a new job constantly, thinking that there would be a lot of options open to him in his field with his double major in chemistry and physics.

But he found none.

“No one will hire me,” he told Joe and Iris sullenly one day when they asked him how his job search was going, “No one will hire a metahuman to work for them, no matter how qualified they are. It’s too complicated with the MRA and increased tax rate for having metahumans under their employment.”

“Aren’t there discrimination laws against that?” Iris asked angrily, “They can’t just not hire you just because you’re a metahuman.”

“Yes, they can,” Barry said with a sigh, “Those discrimination laws only apply to minority _humans_ , not metahumans. I’m not a minority, Iris. I’m not even a person in their eyes.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she said, appalled, “How can they get away with that?!”

“I have no rights, Iris,” Barry said quietly, “ _No_ rights. People can do whatever they want to me now. Someone could walk in here with a gun right now and pop me one right in the head, and the most they’d be charged with is breaking and entering.”

Iris looked at him with a shocked and somewhat skeptical look on her face. She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. Then again, those kids had thrown scalding hot coffee in Barry’s face just last week, and there was nothing he could do about it. It didn’t count as assault because Barry wasn’t “human.” It didn’t even count as animal abuse, either, considering he wasn’t an animal. In the law’s eyes, Barry wasn’t _anything_.

“He’s right,” Joe said sadly, “Yesterday a woman was assaulted on her way to her car, and she called 911. I had to explain to her that I couldn’t help her and she couldn’t press charges on the person who had done it because she was a registered metahuman. In the law’s eyes, no crime had occurred.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” Iris said angrily, “Even without human rights, metahumans should at least be protected from that happening, especially when they haven’t done anything wrong. Even _animals_ have more rights than that.”

“You’re right,” Joe said somberly, “But those kinds of laws haven’t been put in place yet. Some metahuman rights groups have been formed to try to push for some kind of legal rights for metahumans, but it could take years for some of those acts to go through.”

“Yet it only took them a few months to take those rights away,” Barry said bitterly, “How is that even possible?”

Joe sighed.

“I don’t know, Bar,” he said sadly, “Clinton Price must have done something to push it through. I don’t know.”

“What am I going to do, Joe?” Barry asked hopelessly, “I can’t work. I can’t even go out in public anymore. More and more metahumans are being attacked every day, and law enforcement can’t do anything to stop it.”

Joe put his hand on Barry’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Bar,” he said reassuringly, “This will die down soon. In the meantime, don’t worry about money or any of that. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, Joe,” Barry whispered.

He didn’t want to need to, though. He wanted to be able to lead his own life, to support himself without living in fear for being a metahuman.

Things started looking up once Barry finally got a call back for a job interview. It wasn’t exactly his dream job. It was just a part time lab tech position at a small medical research lab that was a small branch of Queen Industries located in Central City. Oliver got it for him. Or at least, he had gotten him the interview. Actually landing the job would be up to Barry.

Barry hadn’t even reached out to Oliver for help, but apparently his unemployment status had been brought to Oliver’s attention, and Oliver had been quick to line up a job for him. Barry wanted to decline the offer out of pride, but he decided it beat washing windows or flipping burgers at Big Belly Burger, and if Oliver wanted to offer his help, then Barry was going to take it gratefully. At this point, he couldn’t really afford to be proud.

The interview went alright. Barry was overqualified for the position with all his schooling and experience, but they still didn’t exactly offer him the job on the spot. There were a lot of hoops to jump through with the MRA before they would be able to actually hire him. Barry could already tell that they were leery about offering him the job. It just wasn’t worth all the trouble that came with hiring a metahuman these days.

The sun was just starting to go down when Barry left the interview. As Barry walked down one of the darker, quieter streets of Central City on his way home, he reflected on how the interview had gone. It was like they didn’t even look at his qualifications for the job. All they saw was a metahuman and the headaches that came along with it. He wasn’t particularly hopeful about getting a call back from them.

Barry was interrupted from his musings when he suddenly saw a man standing on the end of the street, right on the corner, facing him and looking at him with a malicious look in his eye. A bad feeling in his stomach, Barry decided to take a left down a different street to avoid the man.

He found himself walking down a narrow alley, every shadow seeming to jump out at him in his instantly fearful state. He thought he could almost hear someone walking a short ways away behind him, and Barry’s heartrate doubled instantly as his pace quickened, taking longer strides towards the other end of the alleyway without looking behind him. He could see the busy street ahead of him, cars and people going past, going about their night, unaware of his distress.

He was only a quarter of the alley away from reaching the busy street when suddenly a second man appeared at the end of the alley. Barry’s heart clenched in fear. His stride faltered as he came to a stop in the alley, turning around in search of an escape. He had been right. There _was_ someone behind him. Three men, not one.

Barry was surrounded.

“Well, well, well,” one of the men said as they moved closer to him, “What have we here? A filthy stitch neck looking for trouble?”

“Please,” Barry said, knowing all he could do at this point was plead with them, “I’m just on my way home. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Any meta who makes this city their home is looking for trouble in my book,” another man sneered.

“Trust me, if I could leave, I would,” Barry said, backing up until his back hit the wall.

The four men all circled around him, sick smiles occupying their faces.

“We don’t want you to leave,” one of them said callously.

He took a stepper closer towards Barry.

“We want you to die.”

Barry felt all the blood drain from his face. He had no way out of this. He couldn’t just speed away, not with the power dampening device in his neck. He thought back to the time someone had tried to mug him before. Barry had laughed then, told the mugger that he had the world’s worst luck. Now, it seemed like that was him in this scenario. There was nothing funny about it now. These men weren’t looking to just mug him. They wanted to hurt him.

Barry fought. He fought hard, even though he knew he could be arrested for assault for hitting a human, even if it was self-defense. What else was he supposed to do? Just stand there and take it? Let them beat him to a pulp?

Fighting was useless, though. There were too many of them, and Barry wasn’t fully up to fighting weight after spending a month in the MRA facility. Eventually, all Barry could do was try to block their blows, try to guard his face and his body from their punches, and then from their kicks as he inevitably fell hard to the ground. They didn’t seem like they were ever going to stop. They called him filthy names as they beat him into the ground, kicking his nearly-healed ribs until they were broken again.

Barry begged them to just stop, to just walk away and leave him in peace, but they only laughed. He felt one of them grab his arm and twist it backwards. Barry shouted out in pain, but that didn’t stop the man from pulling it a little further until his elbow snapped.

Barry sobbed as they continued to beat every inch of him. He tried to get up, managed to get to his hands and knees, before someone kicked him in the face, sending him sprawling back, his head hitting the concrete hard with a smack. One of the men put a hand on his throat and leaned close to him, Barry now sprawled on his back underneath him. Barry felt the sharp point of a knife pressed against his abdomen.

“This is for Central City,” the man said into Barry’s ear as he pushed the knife in, agonizingly slowly.

Barry gasped as the knife was pushed in to the hilt. The man squeezed his throat tighter as he twisted the blade. Barry tried to suck in a breath, tears rolling down his bloodied face, but the hand on his throat was too tight.

He felt the knife being withdrawn, only to be plunged in again a moment later, and then a third time in his ribs. Barry couldn’t breathe, even after the hand was removed from his throat. He struggled just to suck in a breath with the amount of pain he was in.

The man laughed as he wiped the knife clean on Barry’s shirt, standing up and looking down at him with satisfaction.

“You won’t be able to hurt anyone now,” he said with disgust, spitting on Barry, “Meta scum.”

They’re laughter drifted down the alley back to him as they walked away, leaving Barry beaten and bleeding on the cold ground.

As he laid there, it took Barry a moment or two to register what had just happened. Their laughter echoed in his ears long after they left. He tried to move, tried to lift himself up off the ground, but he stopped when he felt a sharp pain in his side. He reached down and pulled his fingers back to find them coated in blood.

With panic, Barry saw the large amount of fluid pooling out from under him. There was so much blood. His hands were sticky with it.

Doing the only thing Barry could think to do, he pulled out his phone, tears streaming down his face in his panic. His vision blurring, Barry found Joe’s number on his phone and quickly called it.

It rang.

And it rang.

Joe didn’t pick up. He was working late tonight and was probably busy with a case. Barry sobbed when the call went to voicemail. He waited anxiously for the phone to beep, signaling him to leave his message. He could feel his consciousness slipping quickly away from him.

“Joe,” he cried into the phone, “I need help.”

* * *

“Barry wanted me to thank you for the severance,” Joe told the captain, “And the recommendations. He said you didn’t have to do that.”

“It was the least I could do,” Singh said firmly, “How has he been? Has he found a new job yet?”

“It’s been tough, but he finally managed to get an interview tonight,” Joe said, “I really hope he gets it. I know Barry’s going to be crushed if he doesn’t get this job. No one else has even bothered to call him in for an interview so far. No one wants to hire a metahuman.”

“I’m so sorry,” the captain said sincerely, “I argued with the MRA. I really tried to keep Barry’s job here, but my hands were tied.”

“I understand,” Joe said quietly, “Once of all of this is over, do you think…?”

“I’ll hire Barry back in a heartbeat,” Singh said firmly, “It might be a while before this all dies down, though. I hope Barry will be alright before then.”

“Barry will be fine,” Joe assured him, “He’s staying with me. He’s not going to end up on the streets or anything if he doesn’t get this job.”

“His banking accounts,” Singh said seriously, “Has Barry—?”

“He’s transferred them all in my name,” Joe told him, “We didn’t want to take any chances.”

“That’s good,” the captain said, “That’s the smart thing to do. I can’t tell you how many reports of banking and credit card fraud we’ve gotten, but we can’t do anything about it because it’s happening to metahumans.”

“That isn’t right,” Joe said angrily, “It isn’t right that we’re supposed to ignore all cases involving metahumans as the victims.”

“I know,” Singh said sadly, “I know it’s wrong. I wish there was more I could do.”

Joe sighed.

“This will blow over eventually, Joe,” Singh assured him, “In the meantime, tell Barry to stay safe. It’s a dangerous world for metahumans these days.”

Joe nodded.

“Thanks, David,” he said, “Thank you for being so understanding about this.”

“Barry didn’t ask to be struck by lightning,” Singh said firmly, “None of these metahumans asked for this to happen.”

Joe nodded and gave him a small smile.

When he left Singh’s office, Joe returned to his desk, back to his stack of ever-growing cases that he couldn’t do anything about because of the victims’ metahuman status. As soon as he was sitting, he heard his phone beep, indicating he had a voicemail. He picked up his phone and checked it.

It was from Barry, from ten minutes ago.

He was probably just calling to tell him about how the interview had gone. Joe eagerly pressed play on the voicemail to listen to it.

Barry didn’t speak right away in the message. Joe thought maybe Barry had simply butt-dialed him or something, and he was about to delete the voicemail when he suddenly could make out the ragged breathing and gasping sounds that were coming from the other side of the line.

And then Barry spoke.

“Joe,” he sobbed, and Joe felt his blood run cold, knowing instantly that something was wrong just by the way Barry sounded, “I need help.”

Joe rose from his desk, phone still pressed to his ear.

“I’m in an alley off McKinley,” Barry gasped, his breathing ragged.

Joe listened to Barry crying softly into the phone as he waved frantically at the captain to get his attention. Singh quickly made his way over to Joe’s desk, where Joe stood on legs made of jelly.

“Send some squad cars and an ambulance to McKinley Street,” he choked out at Singh before returning his attention to his phone.

Singh gave him a funny look but thankfully moved to do what Joe requested.

“They stabbed me, Joe,” Barry cried, “I…I’m bleeding out. Please…”

Joe put a hand to his mouth to hold back his own sob as he listened with tears filling his eyes.

“No one will help me,” Barry sobbed, “They’re all just walking past.”

Barry’s breathing suddenly became more ragged and sounded somewhat gurgly.

“Please help me,” Barry cried, his voice cracking, “Please…”

The call went silent after that. Joe could barely breathe as he lowered the phone.

“I sent the squad cars and an ambulance to McKinley,” Singh informed him, “You didn’t say _where_ on McKinley, though.”

“I don’t know where,” Joe said, scrambling to grab his keys off his desk.

“What’s going on, Joe?” Singh asked.

“It was Barry,” he said frantically, “He was mugged. Or attacked. I don’t know. He said he was bleeding out in an alleyway off McKinley Street.”

Singh paled.

“I’ll send more squads,” he said quickly, “We’ll find him, Joe.”

Joe nodded before quickly exiting the precinct, a horrible feeling in his gut. Barry’s voicemail had been from ten minutes ago, and he didn’t have speed healing now. Joe just hoped he wasn’t too late.

McKinley Street was a big street, but thankfully Joe knew where Barry was coming from and where he had been going, so he was able to narrow the search down to just a few blocks. He was frantically searching an empty alleyway when his phone suddenly rang. Hoping it was Barry, Joe answered it immediately. It wasn’t Barry. It was Officer Halbrook.

“Joe, we found him,” he said seriously.

“How is he?!” Joe asked immediately.

“He’s alive,” he said somberly, “but he’s in rough shape.”

“Where are you?” Joe asked frantically.

“Just north of the intersection of Dalton and McKinley,” he told him, “The ambulance is on its way.”

Thankfully, Joe was only one block away, and he was able to run to the scene quickly, shoving pedestrians out of his way as he made his way down the street. The alleyway was dark, but Joe found them quickly from their flashlights. Three officers stood in the alley, shining their lights and watching while one was knelt down next to Barry, trying to stop the bleeding.

Joe’s heart clenched as soon as his eyes landed on Barry, laying on the ground next to a dumpster, covered in blood with his phone laying next to his head. He wasn’t conscious. Clearly, he had passed out as he waited for help to arrive. If Joe had just checked his damn phone sooner…

Joe knelt down next to Barry’s head.

“It’s okay, Bar,” he said softly, “I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”

Barry’s breathing was weak, and he looked white as a ghost. His face looked like hell, as if someone had rammed their fists into it repeatedly. His eyes were swollen and bruised, his lips were split in a few places, and his nose was horribly broken. Joe ran a hand through Barry’s hair and found it to be sticky and wet with blood. That’s when he saw the small pool of blood under Barry’s head.

The ambulance was quick to arrive after that. They wasted no time stabilizing Barry’s spine and applying gauze to his stab wounds. The bastards had stabbed him three times before leaving him to die. Joe wanted to find the men who had done this to his son and do the same to them ten times over. He couldn’t afford to think like that, though. All he could think about was Barry.

Joe felt like he could barely breathe as he followed the ambulance in his squad car. Who would want to do this to Barry? To Barry, who had done so much good for this city, who held only kindness and love in his heart. Joe saw red as he drove, thinking about the men who had done this. “Metahunters” they called themselves. It had become Central City’s own twisted idea for a sport.

They took Barry to St. Andrews Hospital. Joe would have felt better taking him to STAR Labs, but that was all the way across town, and Caitlin wasn’t exactly equipped to deal with something like this on her own. Barry had been stabbed multiple times, and he didn’t have regenerative healing capabilities anymore. He would need a full surgical team if he was going to make it through this.

Joe felt sick to his stomach as he waited in the emergency room when Barry was rushed into emergency surgery. He pulled out his phone, dialing Iris’s number. It took him a while to work up the courage to hit send, not knowing how he was going to tell her.

“Hey, dad,” Iris answered her phone cheerfully, “I thought you’d be home by now. You _and_ Barry. I’m anxious to hear how his interview went.”

“Iris,” Joe said quietly, “Something’s happened.”

* * *

“What have we got here?” the surgical tech asked as he entered the room where the surgical team was frantically trying to stabilize a patient.

“Assault victim,” the surgeon answered, “Two stab wounds to the abdomen, causing lacerations to organs unknown and a significant amount of internal bleeding. One in the seventh intercostal space, causing a punctured pleural cavity and probable punctured lung judging by the blood he’s coughed up. I won’t be able to tell for sure until I open him up, though.”

“You didn’t tell me the patient was a meta,” the surgical tech said as soon as he caught a glimpse of the patient’s wrist.

He had been checking the patient’s ID bracelet when he noticed the large barcode on the back of his wrist.

“We don’t really have time to concern ourselves with that,” the surgeon said seriously, “Air and blood are filling his chest cavity. If we don’t operate soon, his lung will collapse. He’ll stop breathing.”

The tech set down the surgical drape he had been about to lay out.

“He’s a _meta_ ,” the surgical tech repeated incredulously.

“Let’s just get him stabilized for now and worry about his probable lack of health insurance later,” the doctor said impatiently as he adjusted the patient’s occlusive dressing so no more air could enter his chest cavity.

The patient was not in good shape. His breathing effort was minimal, and the doctor instructed the anesthesiologist to intubate him immediately.

The surgical tech, however, just stood there as everybody moved. He stared at the doctor in disbelief.

“But he’s not even human,” he said flatly.

“I’m a doctor,” Dr. Morrison snapped, “I think every life is worth saving, human or not. I took an oath to preserve all life, and that includes his. We’ll transfer him to the metahuman wing once he’s stabilized.”

“Well, I for one, am not going to be a part of this,” the tech said firmly, “The less metas there are in the world, the better, in my opinion.”

“Then go ahead and exercise your right to refuse care,” the doctor snapped, “But please go and do it somewhere else. I’m trying to save a life here!”

The tech just shook his head at the doctor in disapproval.

“Try not to waste too many hospital supplies on him,” he said before leaving the operating room.

The surgeon shot him a glare as he was leaving.

 “Anyone else want to leave?” the doctor asked angrily to the others in the room.

The rest of them all looked at each other. Without saying a word, a few more scrub nurses left the room, as did the radiologist.

“Guess we’re going in blind,” the doctor said bitterly when the radiologist left.

Three people remained in the room with him. The anesthesiologist and two nurses.

The stupid MRA had divided the entire hospital staff. Quite a few of them were still more than willing to help out a metahuman patient who came through the emergency room doors, but there was a growing number of employees who refused to help them. The MRA had passed a legislation weeks ago allowing health care workers the choice of whether or not to care for a metahuman. Duty to Rescue laws only applied to humans, after all. Every health care worker had the right to refuse care for metahumans if they so desired. It caused for a huge division amongst employees at any hospital you went to these days.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” the surgeon said urgently, “His blood pressure’s dropping fast.”

* * *

“How is he?” Iris asked urgently when she and Wally entered the waiting room.

“They’re still trying to get him stabilized,” Joe said sadly.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He had Barry’s blood on them and on his light blue work shirt, long streaks of red covering his sleeves and torso. Iris paled when she saw him.

“How bad is it?” she asked tearfully.

“Bad,” Joe said, “The bastards stabbed him three times and beat him nearly to death. They just left him there to die. He was barely breathing when we found him.”

Iris took a deep breath, tears filling her eyes.

“But he’ll be okay, right?” she asked, her voice cracking, “He’s Barry. He has to be okay.”

Joe gave Iris a sad look.

“Caitlin’s back there now,” he said, “She decided to go help them. Apparently, half the surgical team refused to care for him. They need as many hands as they can get.”

“Some of them won’t help him?” Wally asked furiously.

“He’s a metahuman,” Joe said simply, his own anger apparent, “Thankfully, there are still some health care workers out there who still have a heart. They’re working to save him.”

They were interrupted then when Caitlin walked out of the operating room and entered the waiting room. They all approached her anxiously.

“He’s stable,” she said tiredly, “For now. We’re still performing surgery, but I thought I’d come update you.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Wally asked.

“It will take him a while to heal once we’re done working on him, but at least he’s stable now,” Caitlin said, “It was a little touch and go for a while there, but we managed to get his blood pressure back up, and he’s on a ventilator now. The knife punctured his right lung. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“Should we transfer him to STAR Labs?” Joe asked seriously, “I don’t trust these doctors with him.”

Caitlin shook her head sadly.

“Barry’s in no condition to be transferred right now,” she said, “As far as I can tell, Dr. Morrison is a very noble surgeon. He’s doing everything he can to save him. Unfortunately, the radiologist left and refused to help, so we don’t know the full extent of the damage. The hospital refuses to call in another radiologist for a metahuman.”

“Those bastards,” Joe said angrily.

“We’re fixing him up, Joe,” Caitlin assured him, “His surgery is just going to have to be a bit more complicated and invasive without the radiologist, but I’ll make sure we don’t miss anything.”

“Thank you, Caitlin,” Joe said sadly.

Caitlin nodded and then returned to the operating room.

The surgery took four hours, mostly because of the lack of staff available but also because of the extent of Barry’s injuries. Aside from the stab wounds, Barry had a severe concussion, several broken rips, a bruised spleen, broken elbow, and quite a large amount of internal bleeding. His labs showed significant blood loss, and it took six transfusions just to get him back into a somewhat stable condition.

They didn’t transfer Barry to the intensive care unit after the surgery like he should have been. Instead, he was passed off to the metahuman wing of the hospital. The wing’s health care team was somewhat rudimentary, consisting mostly of medical interns and students.

When they all were finally allowed in by Barry, they all cringed at the sight of him. His face was beaten beyond recognition, his nose bandaged after being reset. His arm was in a large brace, and his skin was a ghostly pale color in the places that weren’t bruised. He looked like he had been run over by a truck.

Tears filled Iris’s eyes as she moved over to the bed and sat down next to it, taking Barry’s bruised hand lightly in her own, being careful not to disturb the IV that was inserted there.

“Oh my God, Barry,” she said tearfully as she looked at him.

Joe and Wally moved closer to the bed, too, sitting down close to Iris, wondering when Barry would wake up.

Caitlin was about to update them on his status when her phone started to ring.

“It’s Cisco,” she said, looking at the caller ID, “He probably wants an update.”

She left the room to take the call. The room was silent for a moment before anyone spoke.

“Please tell me we’re going to find the men who did this,” Iris said angrily after a few minutes had passed.

Joe sighed.

“Singh called an hour ago,” he said, “He had no choice but to call off the search.”

Iris shook her head angrily.

“This isn’t right,” she fumed, “They can’t just do this to him and then walk away.”

Wally nodded his agreement, and Joe sighed.

“I wish things were different,” he said, “But there aren’t any charges to press. Barry’s a metahuman.”

“So that’s it?” Wally asked, appalled, “Nothing is going to be done about this?”

“There’s nothing that _can_ be done,” Joe said bitterly, “Trust me, I’ve tried. I’ve had several cases like this that I’ve tried to push for charges to be placed, but the MRA shoots down any attempt to seek justice for metahuman victims. The police aren’t even searching for Barry’s attackers.”

Iris shook her head in disgust, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked at Barry’s battered face.

“I should have offered him a ride,” she said sorrowfully, “He shouldn’t have been walking home.”

“I _did_ offer him a ride,” Joe told her, “Barry insisted he wanted to walk. It was only a few blocks from our house.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” Iris said, gently brushing the hair out of Barry’s face, “I can’t believe something like this could happen to Barry.”

“I still can’t believe _any_ of this is happening,” Wally said quietly.

* * *

“How is he?” Cisco asked frantically over the phone, “Is Barry okay?”

“He’s okay for now,” Caitlin assured him sadly, “He hasn’t woken up after his surgery yet. When he does, he’s probably going to be in a lot of pain, though. The hospital has limited the amount of narcotics available for metahumans.”

“Why isn’t he at STAR Labs?” Cisco asked, “If he’s stable now, why don’t you transfer him?”

“Barry’s most likely going to require additional surgeries,” Caitlin explained, “He has some injuries that we haven’t properly repaired yet, mostly because we didn’t think his body could handle being under anesthesia for much longer. His other surgeries will have to wait so we can give him time to rest.”

Cisco sighed.

“I wish I could be there,” he said sadly, “Maybe there’s a way I could sneak—”

“No, Cisco,” Caitlin said firmly, “Do _not_ try to sneak your way into Central City. You’ll get caught for sure. They’re still scanning for metahumans everywhere you go here. It’s not worth the risk.”

“I just feel so useless here,” Cisco said, frustrated, “I feel like all of this is happening without me there, and there’s nothing I can do about it from where I am.”

“Cisco, there wouldn’t be anything you could do about it even if you were here,” Caitlin assured him, “If you were in Central City right now, you would be going through this right along with Barry. It’s bad enough that this is happening to him without it happening to both of you.”

“I wish he had left with me,” Cisco said sadly, “I should have tried harder to convince him to leave with me. It was his idea for me to go, and I should have pushed him to do the same.”

“You know Barry wouldn’t have left,” Caitlin said surely, “He’s too stubborn. We _all_ were pushing for him to leave, but he was so determined to fix things…”

“There must be a way you can still get him out of the city,” Cisco said desperately.

“There’s not, Cisco,” Caitlin said painfully, “Metahumans aren’t allowed to leave once they’ve been identified. Even if we find a way to sneak past the MRA, if Barry takes one step outside the city limits, that chip in his neck is going to electrocute him, probably to death. It’s happened to a few metahumans who have tried to leave.”

“Has Felicity found a way to disable it, yet?” Cisco asked.

“No,” Caitlin said sadly, “She says it’s unlikely she’s going to be able to. Doing so would require her to hack into the government’s mainframe in order to access the MRA’s network. Even then, there’d be thousands of codes to sort through before she’d be able to find Barry’s specific ID tag. It’s simply too complicated and well-protected.”

Cisco sighed.

“How’s Barry handling all of this?” he asked.

“He’s been really down,” she answered sadly, “Especially since he lost his job. I haven’t told him what Felicity told me, yet. I don’t think he’s going to handle it well. He’s anxious to get that chip out of his neck.”

Cisco sighed again.

“If there’s anything I can to do help…”

“I’ll let you know, Cisco,” Caitlin said seriously, “In the meantime, try to stay safe.”

“I will,” Cisco said quietly, “Thanks for keeping me updated.”

“Of course,” she said sadly, “Bye, Cisco.”

* * *

While Caitlin was out taking her phone call, the small hospital room remained quiet for the most part. That is, until a small group of surgical interns entered the room.

“Mind if we give report?” the doctor leading the group asked them.

Joe shook his head.

“Go ahead,” he said quietly.

The doctor nodded and then turned to address the group of students.

“Patient is a twenty-six year old male. Name is Bartholomew Allen,” he started, “Goes by Barry. He was admitted to the ER at seven-thirty-two PM this evening after being assaulted by a group of metahunters. He’s a type one metahuman whose power, ironically, is regenerative healing, a trait that is, unfortunately, of little use to him now.

“He presented with blunt force trauma to the head, resulting in a grade three concussion with bleeding complications. Whether or not it will require brain surgery has yet to be determined. He’s on neuro checks q two hours. He has three puncture wounds: two in his abdomen, resulting in a lacerated liver and a large tear in his intestines. Both have been repaired via surgery. The third was in his seventh intercostal space, resulting in damage to the lower lobe of his right lung and pneumothorax complications. Orthopedic injuries include a compound fracture to his left elbow, six broken ribs, a shattered left clavicle and a hairline fracture at the base of his skull.”

The students all craned their heads, looking curiously at Barry as they took notes. Iris glared at them. They were all looking at Barry like he was some interesting subject to be studied. A metahuman for them to practice on, like he wasn’t a real person.

“Now,” the doctor continued, “Can anyone tell me what our primary concern is with this patient?”

“Infection?” one student answered uncertainly.

“Although that is definitely something to take seriously, it is not our _priority_ concern,” the doctor said, “Anyone else?”

“Hemorrhage,” one of them answered.

The doctor smiled at him.

“Exactly,” he said, nodding, “If the bleeding in his brain isn’t controlled, he will be at risk of brain damage, hemorrhagic stroke, or death. Can anyone tell me the emergency surgical procedure that will be used if the swelling in his brain doesn’t subside on its own?”

“Craniectomy?” one girl asked.

The doctor nodded.

“And why, can you tell me, do we use a craniectomy for traumatic brain injuries with swelling complications?” he asked.

“To relieve the cranial pressure and to—”

“Enough,” Joe said suddenly, standing up from his chair.

The doctor and the students all looked at him in surprise. Joe was glaring at them.

“I said you could give report,” he said angrily, “Not use my son to teach your students a lesson about craniectomies or whatever the hell it is you’re talking about.”

“Sir,” the doctor said, “I’m truly sorry for what’s happened to your son, but this is a teaching hospital and—”

“I don’t care,” Joe said firmly, “Go find someone else to use as your instructional Guiney pig. Barry isn’t a spectacle for you all to goggle at.”

“Alright, sir,” the doctor said, nodding respectfully, “We’re sorry to disturb you.”

With that, the group left the room, continuing their conversation outside of the room as they walked down the hallway.


	8. I Let This Happen

* * *

**I Let This Happen**

* * *

“What are you hanging?” Caitlin asked the student who had walked into the room and approached Barry’s IV stand.

“Cephalosporin,” the student answered nervously.

Caitlin huffed angrily and walked over to the IV stand.

“When you’re hanging a secondary, you have to hang the primary below it,” she said angrily, “Otherwise it won’t transfuse right.”

“Oh,” the student said, blushing.

Caitlin was losing her patience with these medical students. None of them knew what they were doing, and most of the time, there didn’t seem to be any instructor or supervisor watching them. They were given free reign over the metahuman unit. No one really seemed to care if a bunch of metahumans received less than adequate care.

The student left the room quickly after that.

“I wish they would let me just take care of him,” Caitlin said angrily to the others in the room, “But they keep insisting on assigning students to Barry.”

It had been a long night after Barry’s admission to the hospital. They had stayed up all night, Caitlin monitoring him obsessively in case he took a turn for the worse. Barry still hadn’t woken up, and they were starting to get nervous that he wasn’t going to. It was like the coma all over again.

Barry didn’t wake up until late morning. Caitlin was assessing his lung sounds, worried by how shallowly he was breathing. It was probably just an after effect of the anesthesia, but it was concerning, considering the damage that had been done to his right lung.

* * *

Barry felt something cold pressing against his chest. Someone was touching him. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t get a full breath in. He tried to open his eyes, but they felt painful and swollen. Only one of them opened, but it was just a crack. He couldn’t see very well, but he could make out the blurry outline of someone leaning over him. His heartrate seemed to double instantly.

Barry gasped and put out a hand to stop them. That was when he felt the pain, the horrible pain all over his body as he started to move, to struggle.

“Barry,” a soothing voice said, holding his arms down, “Barry, it’s okay.”

“Let go of me!” he cried weakly.

He felt the hands leave him instantly, which helped him calm down just a tad.

“Barry,” a man’s voice said, “It’s alright. You’re safe now, son.”

Most of the tension left his body then as he recognized Joe’s voice.

“Joe,” he said weakly, looking in the direction of the voice, “I can’t see very well.”

“It’s okay, Bar,” Joe said, rubbing Barry’s good arm, “I’m here. We’re all here. Iris, Wally, Caitlin, and me. We’re all here with you. Just relax. Try not to move around too much.”

Barry felt a sharp stabbing pain in his side every time he took a breath.

“It hurts to breathe,” he gasped, clutching his side.

“Your lung was punctured,” Caitlin told him, and Barry turned his head gingerly to look at her blurry outline.

He could barely keep the one eye open. The other was swollen shut uselessly.

“You have a pretty bad concussion, Barry. For a while there, we thought it was going to require brain surgery, but the swelling and intracranial pressure started to go down around two this morning. It’s still compressing your optic nerve, though, which is probably why your vision is so blurry. It’ll get better as the swelling goes down more.”

Barry nodded slightly, processing this information. He tried to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“I tried to fight them,” he choked, “But there were too many of them. I was too weak, and I couldn’t get away.”

“Shh,” Iris soothed, running her hand through his hair, “It’s okay, it’s over now.”

But it wasn’t over. All of this was still happening. Barry had been beaten and nearly killed, all because he was a metahuman. He felt awful, even worse than he had when he had woken up after Zoom had snapped his spine. At least Zoom had a reason for his actions, as twisted as those reasons had been. These people had no reason. They had simply wanted to hurt him.

“I want to go home,” Barry said tiredly.

“I’m sorry, Barry,” Caitlin said sadly, “You’re not quite ready to go home just yet. You need to heal more first.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” he said, “I can’t stay at STAR Labs right now. I just want to be home.”

Caitlin took a deep breath.

“Barry, you’re not at STAR Labs,” she told him gently, “You’re at St. Andrews Hospital. It was closest and there was too much damage for me to handle by myself.”

“I’m in a hospital?” Barry asked, astonished.

“Yes,” she said, “And we’re keeping you here for observation. You’re not out of the woods just yet. There was a lot of damage done to your lung, and we need to keep you here in case there are any complications. Your lung collapsed during surgery, and it’s going to take a while to heal.”

Barry tried to take a deep breath, but it hurt like hell, and he ended up exhaling shakily.

“Barry,” Caitlin said gently, “Is it okay if I check your eyes quick? I need to do a neuro check.”

Barry nodded weakly.

Caitlin briefly shined a light in his open eye, and it made his head throb horribly. The other eye was much worse. He hissed in pain as she tried to gently pry it open with her fingers to check his pupils. Barry had to fight the urge to turn his head away from her. He was thankful once it was over.

“What’s your pain at right now, Barry?” she asked quietly, trying to speak softly because she could tell his head was killing him, “Can you rate it for me?”

“Eight,” Barry said breathlessly, “It’s…it’s an eight.”

“Okay,” Caitlin said, rubbing his arm, “I’ll give you something for it, but they’ve limited the pain meds available for you. They wouldn’t even give you a PCA pump for pain.”

“Why?” Barry asked.

Caitlin sighed and exchanged a look with the others.

“Because you’re a metahuman,” she said quietly.

Barry’s face hardened. After a moment, he nodded.

“Alright then,” he said quietly, “Just give me a small dose.”

Caitlin felt horrible as she injected a small dose of hydrocodone into his IV, knowing it would hardly put a dent in his pain. It would only take the edge off.

“How long do I have to be here?” Barry asked miserably.

“I don’t know, Barry,” Caitlin answered sadly, “We still have to repair your arm. Your elbow is shattered. And you have a tendon in your ankle that was torn. That may require surgery, too.”

“I’m going to need more surgeries?” Barry asked.

Iris rubbed his arm supportively. Barry suddenly became tense when he thought of something.

“Who’s paying for this?” he asked suddenly, “I don’t have health insurance now that I lost my job.”

“I’ve got it covered, Bar,” Joe assured him, “Don’t worry about that one bit.”

“But I’m not on your family plan,” Barry said, “I’m a metahuman. They wouldn’t let you put me on your plan. You’re paying for this all out of pocket?”

Joe patted his arm.

“Please, Bar,” he said brokenly, “Don’t worry about any of that. It’s not a problem.”

Barry stared at him for a moment as he thought about it.

“I don’t want the surgery,” he said suddenly.

“Bar,” Joe said gently, “You need it.”

“Not if it’s going to cost you a fortune,” Barry said firmly, “I want to be discharged… _today._ I want to be discharged.”

“Barry,” Caitlin said painfully, “You can’t.”

“I have the right to discharge myself,” Barry said, “Even if it’s against medical advice. I’ll sign whatever I have to sign.”

“You don’t have that right, Bar,” Joe said softly, “You don’t have…”

Barry stared at him for a moment.

“I don’t have any rights,” Barry said quietly.

He looked like he was about to cry, and Joe felt terrible for saying it, but it was true. As the person who brought him in, Joe was in charge of Barry’s medical decisions, not Barry.

“I’m sorry, son,” Joe said, and he really was, “But I can’t let you leave. You need medical care.”

Barry looked away from him a moment, a lump forming in his throat.

“At least use my severance,” he said, looking back at Joe.

“Bar…”

“Singh gave me plenty of severance pay,” Barry said to him, “Use it.”

“Barry, I’m not using your money.”

“It’s your money now anyways,” Barry said, “It’s in your name, so use it.”

“But it’s my fault you got hurt,” Joe said sadly.

Barry stared at him.

“How on earth is it your fault?!” he asked.

“I should have driven you,” Joe said in anguish, “I should have insisted on driving you.”

“Joe, it was my decision to walk,” Barry said firmly, “It’s not your fault this happened to me. It’s mine. I decided to walk home, and when that man appeared at the end of the street…I decided to walk down that stupid alley. I fell right into their trap. I should have just turned and gone the other way.”

“Barry,” Iris said, “It’s not your fault. It’s not _anyone’s_ fault except for the men who did this to you. Don’t blame yourself for what happened.”

Barry shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

“I was so stupid,” he said, “I let them do this to me. I’m a _metahuman_. What was I thinking, walking down that dark street?”

“Barry…” Wally said, “It’s not your fault.”

Barry ignored him, though, and turned to Joe. He couldn’t see his face very well, but he tried to look him in the eye.

“Use my severance, Joe,” Barry said, “ _Please_.”

Joe sighed and rubbed the back of Barry’s hand.

“Okay, Bar,” he said quietly, “I’ll use it.”

Barry nodded.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully.

Joe nodded at him. He wasn’t going to use all the severance, he decided. He would only use a portion of it. He would take care of the rest of it himself. He wasn’t going to let Barry bankrupt himself to pay his medical bills, especially when none of this was his fault, even if Barry thought it was. He didn’t ask for this.

He didn’t ask for any of this.

* * *

Barry’s vision started to clear around midafternoon, and he became much less groggy. However, being more alert also meant being more alert to the pain he was in. The small amount of pain meds they had available for him there was ridiculous.

Barry slept like shit in the hospital. The pain was excruciating, but he mostly couldn’t sleep because he kept thinking about what had happened. He kept thinking about what he could have done differently. He could have taken a different route. He could have tried to run or flag down a car. He could have tried to take his chances with the one man at the end of the alley instead of waiting for all four of them to surround him.

He also couldn’t stop thinking about how they had come to this, how things had even gotten this bad. If the Flash had just been better, if he had just been able to keep people’s trust, then maybe none of this would be happening. He could hate Clinton Price all he wanted, but ultimately Barry blamed himself for everything that was happening. He was supposed to stop this, and he had failed.

If only they all could see their hero now, he thought bitterly. They would think he was pathetic. He had been beaten to a pulp by a handful of normal human citizens. Not metahumans. Not even criminal masterminds. Just a few humans with a grudge against metahumans. It was pathetic.

At least the swelling in his brain went down. There was still some damage and minor swelling, but he was out of the danger zone now, and he was getting neuro checks every four hours instead of every two. His ankle also seemed like it wasn’t going to require surgery. It would take a long time to heal on its own, though. Unfortunately, surgery for his arm wasn’t even a question. He had his surgery scheduled for that afternoon.

“Come in,” Joe said when there was a quiet tap on the door.

A young man walked into the room.

“Hi, Mr. Allen,” he said cheerfully, looking at Barry sitting up in bed, “I’m just here to check your dressings.”

“Okay,” Barry said quietly, shifting slightly in bed.

The student nurse pulled down Barry’s covers down to his knees and lowered the head of the bed down to the lowest setting until Barry was laying flat.

Everyone else stood up to leave the room, but before they could leave, the student nurse pulled up Barry’s hospital gown, essentially exposing him to the entire room. Barry quickly grabbed the covers and yanked them up above his waist.

“For real?” Barry muttered angrily as the others quickly averted their eyes and left the room to give him privacy.

“Whoops,” the student said with a small laugh, “Sorry.”

As awkward as it was, Barry would have much rather had Caitlin doing his cares. She at least would have given the others a chance to leave before uncovering him. She wasn’t there right now, though. She had gone to STAR Labs to get some decent pain meds for Barry. The pain had become unbearable for him, and she had decided to screw hospital policy and sneak her own meds in for him.

The student pealed back one of Barry’s dressings. Barry felt like he was going to be sick at the sight. He had both his stab wounds and his surgical incisions covering his abdomen. He remembered all too clearly what it had felt like when that knife had gone into him, especially the first one when the attacker had pushed it in slowly and twisted it. Barry felt his chest getting tighter, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

“He’s _what?!_ ” Barry heard a woman’s voice yell suddenly in the hallway.

Caitlin was back.

She entered the room a second later.

“I’ll take over here,” she said immediately upon entering the room.

The student looked up at her.

“I’m just doing his first post op dressing change,” he said.

“I’ll do the dressing change,” Caitlin said angrily, “You clearly don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not even wearing gloves. You’re going to give him an infection.”

She stormed over to the bed then and reached for the control.

“And you really think it’s a good idea for a patient recovering from a collapsed lung and brain swelling to be lying flat?” she asked incredulously as she raised the head of the bed, “His head should be never be lowered below thirty degrees. It’s no wonder he’s short of breath.”

Barry couldn’t deny, he _was_ feeling short of breath, but he thought Caitlin was being just a tad harsh.

“Caitlin,” he said, “It’s fine. He’s a student. He’s learning.”

“That’s no excuse,” she said angrily before turning back to the student, “Tell the rest of your staff that I don’t want anyone else caring for Barry. We’re here so he can have surgery, not so he can have a bunch of clueless interns and students poking and prodding at him.”

“S-sorry,” the student said, blushing furiously as he set down the new dressings he was holding—contaminating—and left the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

Caitlin angrily threw the dressings away and retrieved some new ones from the medical drawer, all the while with Barry staring at her.

“What?” she asked him when she saw the look he was giving her.

“Caitlin,” he said tiredly, “Don’t you think you’re being just a bit…overprotective?”

“No,” Caitlin huffed, “I just stopped him from giving you an infection, Barry. I don’t think my reaction was inappropriate. Besides, you should have seen how Joe was with the students caring for you before you woke up yesterday. He was a lot harsher than me.”

Barry frowned.

“I’m sure we don’t need to give the hospital more reasons to hate us,” he said, “Most of them already hate me because of what I am. I’d rather you not chase off the only people who are still willing to provide care to metahumans.”

“Barry, they don’t care about providing care,” she said painfully, “You should have heard the conversation I overheard yesterday. These students don’t see you as a patient. To them, you’re just a practice dummy, a lab simulation. They’re not taking your care seriously.”

Barry looked down upon hearing this, and Caitlin regretted telling him instantly. He looked almost…hurt.

“Then why am I still here?” he asked quietly after a moment, “Why haven’t we transferred me yet? I’m stable. The swelling in my brain has gone down. My lung is finally starting to heal. What am I still doing here?”

“Your surgery this afternoon,” she said, “To repair your shattered elbow.”

“Why can’t _you_ do it?” Barry asked, “You’ve repaired plenty of my broken bones before.”

“Barry,” she said seriously, “I’ve been very spoiled with your healing capabilities. All I’ve had to do in the past is make sure the bones were aligned correctly, and then it would be healed within an hour or two. It’s a lot harder to set a bone, knowing that it’s going to require much more time to heal. I’m a genetic biochemist kind of doctor, not an orthopedic surgeon. If it was just a simple type one or type two elbow fracture, I’m sure I could probably do it, but it’s a compound fracture. It’s completely shattered. I’m sorry, but you don’t need me. You need an orthopedic expert for something like that.”

“Or Felicity,” Barry said quietly.

“What?” Caitlin asked.

“All I need is for Felicity to crack the code on this damn chip in my neck and disable it. Then I’ll heal on my own, probably within a _day_.”

“Barry, I just talked to Felicity,” Caitlin said in a strained voice.

“And?” Barry asked nervously.

Caitlin took a deep breath. She couldn’t look Barry in the eye.

“And she’s still searching,” she said, her mouth dry.

It was true that Felicity was still trying, but now didn’t seem like a good time to tell him that Felicity said it was next to impossible that she would ever get through the MRA’s firewalls.

Barry sighed.

“We’re transferring me as soon as I’m done with the surgery, right?” he asked.

Caitlin nodded.

“Yeah, Barry,” she said, “Yeah, we’ll transfer you as soon as your surgery is done. You’ll be going home soon.”

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

“Okay then,” he said quietly.

* * *

Barry’s surgery went by without any complications. It took longer than they thought to repair his arm, but within a few hours, Barry was out of the operating room. Caitlin was making his discharge plans before Barry had even left the PACU. They decided to transfer him while he was still groggy from the anesthesia, thinking it would probably be easier for him that way. He was going to be in a lot of pain when he fully woke up, and they thought it would be best for him to wake up in STAR Labs and not at St. Andrews. They all were anxious to get him out of that hospital and away from all the metahuman politics that came with it. None of that was good for him or his recovery, and they all were relieved when Barry was waking up at STAR Labs that evening.

“Barry?” Caitlin asked gently, “How are you feeling?”

“My arm hurts,” he mumbled, his eyes struggling to open.

“We fixed it now,” Caitlin told him, “It’s going to hurt for a while, but I’ll give you pain meds for it, okay?”

“The good stuff?” he asked her, his lips turning up into a crooked smile.

Caitlin laughed.

“Yes, Barry,” she said, smiling at him, “The good stuff.”

Barry sighed.

“At least I can get pain meds now,” he said quietly, “At least there’s one good thing about losing my powers.”

She smiled sadly at him.

“When can we start physical therapy?” he asked after a moment.

“We have to let your arm heal first,” she said gently, “But we can start some light therapy tomorrow maybe if you’re up for it. You’re still on abdominal precautions because of the stab wounds, so I don’t want you moving around too much, yet. You shouldn’t be straining yourself.”

“I just want to heal,” Barry said impatiently.

“You’ll get there Barry,” she said, “Everything will get better soon.”

Barry knew she was talking about more than just his physical recovery, and although he appreciated her attempt to console him, he knew they were just words. Right now, nobody knew how things were going to turn out. The future was just one giant question mark at this point.

* * *

Barry’s physical therapy was complicated, to say the least. Caitlin started him out with just simple range of motion exercises to regain full mobility of his arm, but he wasn’t able to bear any weight on that arm for a while, both because of his elbow and also because his broken collar bone was also on his left side.

Within a week, Caitlin allowed him to go home again. For once, Barry was thankful for not having a job since he wouldn’t quite be able to go to work with his injuries. His left arm was pretty much useless in its sling, and he had a hard time getting around on his strained right ankle.

The thing about a strained ankle was that it wasn’t as severe as a broken ankle, but it would take a lot longer to heal. It was worse than a sprain would have been, and far more painful. It was hard for Barry to get around because he could only use one crutch because of his arm. It was completely exhausting for him to get up and down the stairs, but he managed.

Joe, Iris, and Wally did everything they could to support him once he was home, but Barry seemed determined to do everything himself. They were proud of his determination. He didn’t let anything that happened to him stop him from trying. At the same time, they wished he would let them help him more.

Iris came home from work one day, a week after Barry had returned home, to find him sitting in the dining room, hands wrapped around a coffee mug as he stared off into space. His coffee had long since gone cold, but he didn’t appear to have noticed.

“What’s wrong, Bar?” she asked in concern as she sat down in the chair across from him.

“The medical research lab called,” he said quietly, staring down at the mug.

“And?” she asked nervously, but she already knew what he was going to say.

It was written all over his face.

“I didn’t get the job,” he said in a small voice.

Iris reached out and touched his hand, causing him to look up at her.

“It’s going to be okay, Barry,” she said firmly, “You were overqualified for that job anyways.”

Barry just shook his head.

“I didn’t even qualify for it, they told me,” he said, “Metahumans can’t work in health care, and I guess medical research falls under that category.”

Iris sighed.

“I’m so sorry, Barry,” she said sadly.

Barry looked down again, unable to look her in the eye. The sight of him so down, his face still bruised and beaten horribly, broke her heart to see. She just wanted this all to be over, to see Barry happy again.

“I couldn’t even land a lab tech job,” he said bitterly, “Even with Oliver’s help.”

“Barry, you know that if all this metahuman stuff wasn’t going on, they would be begging you to work for them,” she said, “Don’t let this get you down.”

Barry shook his head.

“I’m nothing now,” he said sadly, “I can’t work. I can’t run. I can’t do anything besides sit at home and try to recover. Everything in my life has been taken from me.”

“That’s not true, Barry,” Iris said in a small voice, “You still have us. We’re still here for you. We’re not going anywhere.”

Barry looked up at her again and gave her a small, watery smile, but it looked broken.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you all by my side.”

She gave his hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at him.

“We’ll get through this, Bar,” she assured him, “As a family. You’re not going through this alone.”

* * *

The violence between humans and metahumans began to grow over the next few weeks. It was mostly humans—metahunters—attacking metahumans, but with time, metahumans inevitably started to fight back. Metahumans who weren’t violent or angry before were now starting to strike out and rebel. When you repeatedly treat someone like an enemy, that’s exactly what they become. You end up creating your own worst enemy, and that’s exactly what Clinton Price had done. He had driven a wedge between humans and metahumans, and really, it had only been a matter of time before it created Central City’s own unique version of a war.

“War” was maybe too strong a word to describe it, but no one could deny that tensions were rising. People were angry, and the city seemed to be split in two. Metahumans who were caught acting out were taken by the MRA, never to be seen again. It was pretty obvious what the MRA was doing with them. They weren’t even trying to hide it. They were putting them down. The same way they had killed hundreds of other metahumans who had acted out during the registration process.

The MRA’s actions were only making the problem worse, though, only making people angrier. What was originally protesting turned into full on attacks and riots. Military personnel were called in for back up. Yet, people still tried to fight back. And then on July 8th, things took a turn for the worse. Headlines exploded over the course of that week.

_Metahuman Regulation Agency Gets Bombed!_

_MRA Officials Working to Restore Order_

_Tensions Rise: Metahuman Outrage Reaches New Limits_

_Clinton Price Pushes for Metahuman Segregation Laws_

They all watched the news nervously, watched at home as the military shot down rioting metahumans, as human supporters were arrested and incarcerated for supporting the metahuman movement that had sprung up.

“We need to be prepared,” Joe said seriously as they were watching the news one night, sickened by the violence that always seemed to occupy their TV screen now.

The rest of them all looked at him.

“We need to be ready in case things take a turn for the worse,” he said.

He looked at Barry with a scared look on his face.

“What do you mean?” Wally asked him, “What more could possibly happen?”

“They’re talking about segregation,” Iris said seriously, “Who knows what they’re going to do?”

“They’ve been clearing out the low income neighborhoods,” Joe told them, “Paying people to evacuate the area.”

Wally swallowed.

“You don’t think…?”

Barry spoke then, his voice flat.

“They’re going to separate us.”


	9. An Act of Desperation

**_Another apology from the author:_ **

**I don’t want to beat a dead horse here, but with more negative comments appearing on this story, I felt this was necessary. I’m truly sorry for referring to the Holocaust with this story. I know that a fictional story doesn’t even remotely compare to those horrible real-life events. I’m not going to pretend like this story doesn’t contain some similar elements, though. The truth is, I feel like so many people act like the Holocaust happened a long time ago and that it can’t happen again today, but the reality is that it really wasn’t that long ago. It was less than a hundred years ago, and it could very well still happen today. It _does_ still happen today in some countries. **

**Violence and human genocide are common recurring themes in human history, and I wanted to show how it would happen in modern times. Obviously, we don’t have metahumans in real life like we do in this story, but we _do_ have people of different races, religions, ethnicities, and sexualities, and any one group could be subjectable to having this happen to them. It’s foolish to think that history can’t repeat itself. We should learn from history, not ignore it and forget about it. **

**A good movie that shows this, actually, is the movie _V for Vendetta_. Set in modern day Britain, the movie shows how in a modern society, a variety of people are oppressed and mass exterminated for their differences, particularly homosexuals and people of “unsavory” religions—pretty much anything that isn’t Christianity. It’s a great movie, and I highly recommend it to anyone who might find it interesting. It shows how all of this can actually still happen, even today. It’s not impossible or even improbable. It _will_ happen again at some point. **

**I guess what I’m trying to say is that, although I originally compared this story to the Holocaust—because it is perhaps history’s most famous and well-known human genocide—really it’s comparable to any of the _many_ genocides that have taken place over the course of history. I’m really sorry about this rambling author’s note. I just wanted to get this all out there because although I wanted people to be entertained by this story, I also wanted it to make people think.**

**Warning: Self Harm**

* * *

**An Act of Desperation**

* * *

It was on every news channel.

_Clinton Price Announces Plans for Separate Metahuman Communities_

“In regards for public safety,” Clinton Price announced, “MRA officials and I have decided it would be in everyone’s best interest if metas were kept separate from the general human population that still occupies Central City. We have managed to contain the problem by not allowing metas to spread beyond Central City limits, but in doing so we now have a city overrun with contaminated metas. Many have pushed for all meta individuals to simply be exterminated. However, I find this to be a far more humane way to deal with the problem, and I think this will make everyone happier on both sides of the spectrum.

“The new designated meta residence zone will be surrounded by a sixty-foot-high wall, which will be carefully guarded and maintained by MRA personnel in order to ensure that no meta breaches the human zones of our city. I assure everyone, the living conditions of this zone will be very agreeable in order to ensure quality of life for both humans _and_ metas. Our zoning project is currently underway as we speak and should be complete by the end of the month.”

“We have to get this chip out of me,” Barry said seriously, looking past everyone and staring a hole through Caitlin.

“Barry,” Caitlin said painfully, turning off the TV in the cortex, “I _can’t.”_

“Then I’ll remove it myself,” he said seriously, his voice laced with a hint of panic, “I swear to _God_ , Caitlin. If you don’t get this thing out of me, I’ll do it myself.”

“Barry,” Iris said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “It could _kill_ you.”

“I don’t care,” he said angrily, “I’m willing to take that chance.”

“Well, I’m not, Bar,” Joe said, “We have to find another way.”

“ _How?_ ” Barry demanded, “There’s nothing else we can do. This chip won’t allow me to leave. I can’t hide from the MRA. I can’t escape this or fix it until we find a way to get this chip out.”

“Barry, we’re not going to let this happen,” Joe said firmly, “I won’t let them separate you from us.”

“How?” Barry asked again, quieter this time.

That was the real question. None of them really knew what to do, and they understood Barry’s panic, felt it themselves. No one knew how they were going to stop this from happening. The situation was completely out of their hands.

* * *

Barry stood there for the longest time staring into the bathroom mirror, his shirt long since removed. He had made sure nobody else was home, and he had locked the door just in case. His reflection looked pale, no doubt from the fear and tension of what he was about to do. He had been standing there for a while now, trying to work up the nerve.

Barry took a deep breath and pulled out his supplies. He pulled on a pair of his CSI gloves, thankful that he always kept a box at home. He tore open an alcohol swab packet, and raised the wipe up to the back of his neck, the smell of rubbing alcohol making his stomach churn.

If Caitlin wasn’t going to do this, then he would do it himself.

He wasn’t going to let the MRA win. He wasn’t going to let them control him. If he got this damn thing out, then the MRA wouldn’t be able to track him. He wasn’t planning on running. No, he was still going to stay and fix this. All he needed was his speed back, and there was only one way to do that.

After sterilizing the back of his neck the best he could, Barry picked up the razor blade he had set on the counter and wiped that off with another alcohol swab before grabbing a lighter and holding the blade under the flame for a moment. Caitlin was going to be furious with him, but at least he was being somewhat aseptic about it. She had to give him points for that.

Barry held up a hand mirror so that he could see his back’s reflection in the larger bathroom mirror. Using his other hand, he reached up over his shoulder with the razor blade held tightly between his fingers. It was an awkward angle, but he made it work. His hand paused behind his head for a moment, the blade hovering inches away from his neck. Barry took a deep breath and gritted his teeth before sliding the blade across his skin.

His neck exploded with pain almost instantly. The area had healed over, but it was still tender from his original surgery and from all the times they had shocked him using the chip. His stomach churning, Barry continued to cut into the wound, opening it up while also being cautious not to cut too deep. He didn’t want to hit a major blood vessel or a nerve. With a gasp of pain, Barry set the razor blade down once the wound was fully open.

He shakily lowered the mirror in his hand and took a moment to breathe through the pain before raising it up again. His entire body was trembling, and it instantly felt like he was back in that facility, just after he had gotten the damn thing put in. He could see the device now, and he felt a twisting in his gut as he thought of the best way to remove it. He had looked over the diagrams Caitlin had found, studied them meticulously, but he had to say, looking at the real thing was nothing like the picture. He couldn’t visualize how the device was actually inserted. He was no surgeon, after all.

This was why he had begged Caitlin to do this for him. Even if he _was_ a surgeon, it was impossible to do it on himself. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying, though. He could stop now. He could stitch himself back up and give up, but to do so would be leaving himself at the MRA’s mercy. He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t stop now.

Taking a deep breath, Barry reached a shaky hand up to the incision, pressing a gloved finger into the wound. He gritted his teeth as he dug into the open incision, trying to get a feel for the device, but his damn glove kept getting in the way. Frustrated, Barry lowered his hand again and tore the glove off. Screw being sterile. His body would take care of any infection once he got his powers back anyways.

Blood was running down his back now, mingling with the sweat that now covered his body. Barry leaned against the counter. His knees were shaking now along with his hands as his now ungloved fingers returned to the incision.

Based on what he had seen in the diagram, the device wrapped around his spinal cord and extended up into his brainstem. He first had to worry about unclasping it. He would worry about the brainstem thing later when it came time to actually pull it out. Barry worked on unscrewing the clasp on one side of the device. If he did it wrong, the device would end up clamping down on his spinal cord, effectively killing him or paralyzing him.

Barry felt dizzy as he looked at the large, white nerve in his neck that the device was wrapped around. He had seen similar things in his work and with cadavars in CSI school, but it was entirely different than seeing and _touching_ your own spinal cord. Barry felt like he was going to be sick and tried not to think about it too much, focusing more on the device itself rather than the internal anatomy of his spine.

His shaking grew worse as he struggled to detach the device. His fingers kept slipping on it, slick with blood. Barry started to get scared when he felt a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes. He was doing nerve damage. He could tell.

Still, he pressed on, desperate to get the chip out his body. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about how he had been driven to this, to this act of desperation. He felt like an animal with its foot caught in a trap, willing to do whatever it took to escape.

The numb tingling feeling quickly spread, and Barry felt like his legs were going to collapse from under him. He was terrified that he was going to end up paralyzing himself. Maybe if he just got the device out, though, it wouldn’t matter. He had recovered from a broken spine before. If he got his powers back, maybe he wouldn’t end up quadriplegic. Even if he did, it was probably better than whatever the MRA had in store for him.

Black spots started to fill his vision. The sweat covering his body felt cold now, and it was then that Barry knew. He was in way over his head. He managed to get the clasp on the device unscrewed, but he was nowhere near removing it. A sob escaped his lips as he clawed desperately at the device, no longer worrying about being careful. He needed it out of him. He couldn’t stand another second of having it in his body. He would get it out even if it killed him.

He could feel his consciousness slipping away from him, and tears started falling down his face. He needed to get it out now before he passed out. This was his one chance for freedom. If he failed, he probably wouldn’t get another one. Another broken sob escaped his lips before the darkness suddenly overtook him and he felt himself hit the floor.

* * *

Wally set his school bag down by the door as he walked into the house. He didn’t even want to think about his homework. He hadn’t been focusing too great in school lately, mostly because of everything that was going on. He wasn’t particularly close with Barry, but it definitely still pained him to see what Barry was going through. He didn’t know him very well, but Wally knew that Barry didn’t deserve any of the things that were happening to him, and he was just as worried as the rest of them that Barry was going to be taken away soon.

He couldn’t even imagine what Barry must be feeling right now, especially now since he didn’t have work or anything else to distract him from it all. While the rest of them left in the morning to go to school or work, Barry spent his entire day at home, probably going crazy wondering what was going to happen to him.

All of them were worried about what Barry might do. He wasn’t the type to just stand by and do nothing when things were going to hell, and they all were terrified he was going to go out there and join the metahumans who were fighting back, even if doing so would essentially be committing suicide. Barry had promised them he would stay home, though. He promised he wasn’t going to do that. Still, they all were worried he was going to do something reckless. He was scared, and with good reason. There was no telling what Barry might do out of fear.

“Barry?” Wally called, walking through the living room and into the kitchen, both of which were empty.

He made his way upstairs then. Barry was probably in his room. Wally had decided that the least he could do was spend time with the guy, try to get his mind off things for a while and maybe get to know him a little more in the process. He was confused when he found Barry’s room to also be empty, though.

That was when he noticed that the bathroom door was closed.

* * *

Henry didn’t have access to much TV from the cabin he was staying in, but when he went into the nearby town and stopped in a small diner for a cup of coffee on a Tuesday afternoon, the TV caught his eye and he paled when he saw the news report.

_Push for Metahuman Segregation Laws Intensifies with MRA Bombing in Central City_

Segregation laws? Bombings in Central City? What the hell was happening? And what was the MRA?

“Can you turn it up, please?” he asked the waitress behind the counter.

She nodded and grabbed the remote.

“If you want,” she said with a shrug, “Most people are sick of hearing about this by now, though.”

“What is it exactly?” Henry asked, “What’s going on?”

“Central City’s become a warzone,” she said, giving him a strange look, wondering how he was only first hearing about this now, “Where have _you_ been?”

“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” Henry said dismissively, “What do you mean, a warzone?”

“Well, everyone knows by now that Central City has all those mutant people running around,” she said, “Metas. Or metahumans. I don’t care really what they call them.”

Henry nodded, impatiently waiting for her to continue.

“The government’s been regulating the metas in the city, not allowing them to leave and pretty much controlling every aspect of their lives. I guess the metahumans have had enough of it, though. They’re starting to fight back. Now, they’re pushing for segregation to keep the metas separate from the humans, which if you ask me, sounds like a pretty good idea at this point. With all this violence going on, separation would probably be better for everybody. Really, I don’t know why the humans don’t just leave, though. You’d have to pay me to live in a city filled with mutated freaks.”

“What about the Flash?” Henry asked intensely, “What has _he_ been doing with all this?”

She shrugged.

“No one knows what happened to the Central City vigilante. He just disappeared. He was probably one of the metas that fought back in the beginning of it all. They’ve killed hundreds of metas already, and most people just assume the Flash was one of them.”

Henry felt all the blood drain from his face.

“I have to go,” he said quickly, slapping some cash on the counter and abandoning his coffee as he rushed out the door.

Henry was pissed. No, he was beyond pissed. He was _livid_. With everything that was going on in Central City, no one thought to call him?! His son was dealing with all of this or worse, he could be dead, and no one bothered to even call him?!

Henry slammed the door of his car angrily, whipping out his phone as he started to drive.

* * *

Joe glanced briefly down at his phone and saw that Henry was calling. He knew it was only a matter of time before news of what was happening reached Barry’s father. He didn’t have time to face Henry’s wrath right now, though, and he let the call go to voicemail. He had more pressing concerns at the moment as he rushed into the house and up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” he asked Wally immediately when he found him standing outside the bathroom door.

“I don’t know,” Wally said, “I’ve been knocking and shouting for almost fifteen minutes. He’s not answering me.”

“Are we sure he’s in there?” Joe asked.

Wally sighed and held up his phone. He had the new MetaTracker app open and sure enough, the map indicated that Barry was there. At least the chip in Barry’s neck was useful for once.

“Barry!” Joe called through the door, pounding on it with his fist, “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

There was no reply.

“Dad, I’ve been trying for fifteen minutes,” Wally said seriously.

“Move away from the door,” Joe said firmly, and Wally quickly obeyed while Joe took a step back before kicking the door in.

Both of them rushed into the room, and Joe’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw Barry lying on the floor. He was shirtless, lying on his stomach, a line of dark red dried blood flowing from his neck and down his back. Joe wanted to be sick when he saw the open wound on Barry’s neck, and he knew instantly what had happened.

Barry had tried to remove his microchip.

“Oh my God, Bar,” Joe said quietly to himself, “What did you do?”

“Barry,” Wally said loudly, kneeling down next to him to try to wake him.

“Don’t touch him,” Joe said quickly and Wally drew back a bit, “We don’t know what damage he’s done to his spine. We shouldn’t try to move him or anything, or we could make it worse.”

Joe quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Caitlin’s number.

“Caitlin,” Joe said urgently as soon as she picked up, “We need you at the house right away. Barry did something stupid.”

Wally looked sadly at Barry lying on the floor, his outstretched fingers bloody from trying to dig the device out of his own neck.

“Yeah, he tried to remove it,” he heard his dad say shakily into the phone, “He’s unresponsive. We haven’t touched him. We didn’t want to cause more damage.”

After being assured that the young doctor was on her way, Joe put his phone away and let out a shaky breath before kneeling down next to Wally by Barry.

“Oh, Bar,” he said sadly when he noticed the dried tears on his son’s face.

Joe felt his heart shattering into pieces. As stupid as it was, he knew exactly why Barry did this. He was scared. He was desperate and terrified. Tears filled his eyes, as he lightly touched Barry’s face.

“It’s going to be okay, Barry,” he choked, “I got you, son.”

When Caitlin got there, she didn’t seem angry like Joe had expected her to be. Instead, she reacted the same way that he had. She took one look at Barry, lying on the floor with a razor blade lying next to him, and she felt herself become consumed with intense sorrow for him. She couldn’t even bring herself to be angry. She was just sad as she started to assess the damage.

“He’s reacting to painful stimuli,” she said quietly when Barry reflexively tensed as she squeezed the trapezius muscle in his shoulder, “That’s good. It means he didn’t paralyze himself.”

She looked at the wound then, her stomach doing summersaults when she saw Barry’s spinal cord and the device that had been partially unclasped. She couldn’t believe Barry had been driven to the point of actually doing this to himself.

He had told her.

He had sworn to her that if she didn’t remove it for him, he was going to do it himself. She didn’t think that he’d actually do it, though, and now she felt like she had no one to blame but herself for not taking his threat seriously. She shouldn’t have underestimated Barry’s desperation to regain his freedom again, his desperation to not be taken away from his family.

Caitlin tried to ignore the prickling of tears in her eyes as she assessed the damage. She needed to keep a cool head so she could help Barry. Her attention was pulled away from Barry momentarily, though, when she heard a sharp gasp from the doorway.

“Oh, my God!” Iris said in a shrill voice, “Oh, my God! What happened?!”

“Barry tried to remove his microchip,” Joe told her sadly, “Caitlin’s just assessing the damage now.”

Iris put a hand over her mouth as she looked down at Barry, unconscious on the bathroom floor.

“Oh, my God, Barry,” she said through her fingers, tears filling her eyes, “Why would you do this?”

She looked at Caitlin then.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked her tearfully.

“He caused some nerve damage,” Caitlin said softly, looking at his cervical spine, “But it might be fixable. The device clamped down slightly on his spinal cord. It’s probably why he passed out. It looks like he yanked on it, no doubt desperate to just get it out any way that he could. He must have panicked.”

Iris knelt down in the small bathroom to place a gentle hand on Barry’s arm. That was when she noticed that his fingers were twitching, no doubt from the nerve damage he had caused.

“Caitlin,” Joe said quietly, “Is there any way that you could…get it out of him? Could you maybe just try?”

They all looked at the doctor who had an uneasy look on her face.

“It’s too risky,” she said painfully, “There are so many different ways that I could try to remove it, and if I don’t choose the right way, I’m only going to cause more damage. It looks like Barry chose the removal method that I would have tried, and he ended up just hurting himself. He’s already caused damage to his spine. I can’t risk causing more.”

“He’s desperate, Caitlin,” Iris said tearfully, “He was desperate enough to risk doing it himself. Maybe you should try it.”

“I could kill him,” Caitlin whispered painfully.

“Can we deactivate it?” Wally asked, “Maybe we don’t have to remove it. We can just break it somehow so it doesn’t work anymore.”

They all looked to Caitlin, but she just shook her head.

“So many people have tried doing that, and most of them either crushed their spinal cord or ended up electrocuting themselves to death. No one has successfully disabled one. The only people who truly know how to get them out are the people who put them in.”

They all looked sadly at each other for a moment of silence, only for it to be broken by Caitlin a minute later.

“I’m going to fix the device,” she said quietly, “I have to get it realigned back in place or it’s just going to hurt him.”

She set about realigning the device then, feeling sick to her stomach as she reclasped the part of it that Barry had managed to take apart. Once it was back in place, the pressure on Barry’s spinal cord was resolved. She could only hope now that he wouldn’t have any permanent damage from his desperate attempt to remove the device.

Caitlin wanted to cry as she stitched Barry back up with the microchip still inside him. He was going to be so devastated when he woke up later to find that the device was still in his body. Caitlin hated herself when she finished up the last stitch on Barry’s neck. She felt like she was failing him, sentencing him to suffer at the MRA’s hands for the rest of his life.

The last stitch felt like the final nail on his coffin.

* * *


	10. Nowhere to Hide

* * *

**Nowhere to Hide**

* * *

Hours later, they all were sitting silently around Barry’s bedside at STAR Labs. He hadn’t been the Flash for months now, yet he still seemed to find himself in the medical bed just as much as he did before. They were all startled when a voice suddenly boomed out from the cortex.

“Joe!” Henry yelled, storming into the cortex.

Joe stood up instantly. Oh God. He had forgotten about Henry. Joe quickly left the med bay to meet Henry in the cortex.

“Henry,” he said, “I’m sorry, I forgot to call you back. Things have been a little—”

“What’s going on?” Henry demanded angrily, “Central City is going to hell and metahumans are being subjugated, and you don’t think to _call_ me?!”

“Henry, I—”

“Where’s Barry?” Henry demanded, “Is my son okay?”

“Sort of,” Joe answered quietly, “He’s been going through a lot, Henry.”

Joe sighed.

“Barry’s in the med bay right now. He’s passed out and still hasn’t woken up yet. Come with me. I’ll explain everything to you.”

* * *

Cisco knew he had a horrible feeling. He had sensed that something was wrong, and he had been right. Barry had hurt himself. Cisco’s blood ran cold when he vibed the image of Barry passed out on the floor, covered in blood. He called Caitlin instantly, but his warning was somewhat useless considering she knew already and they were currently monitoring him at STAR Labs, waiting for him to wake up.

He had been closely watching Barry using his vibing ability ever since he heard about Barry’s assault. He had felt terrible when he found out that Barry had been laying in that alley for nearly twenty minutes before anyone got to him. He should have vibed him. He should have seen that Barry was in trouble and then alerted the police so they could have gotten to him quicker. Better yet, he should have vibed it _before_ it even happened. Barry may not be the feet anymore, but Cisco was still the eyes and ears. He was supposed to be watching out for them.

Cisco still had trouble when it came to vibing the future, though. He was still learning how to use his powers. Most of the time he saw things after they occurred or while they were occurring, but seldom did he ever see them before they happened, as much as he tried. He had been trying to vibe the future constantly, but most of the time, he came up blank.

He hated this. This was the most useful he could be. He could watch. He couldn’t do anything to help them, but he could watch. Some help that was.

Cisco wasn’t still staying at his parent’s house anymore. Not only was his brother, Dante, driving him crazy, but he felt like he could be more useful in other ways. He might not be able to go into Central City right now, but other people could. Right now, Team Flash needed all the help they could get. Team Arrow was busy fighting Darhk, but there was someone else who might be able to help them. Harry.

They hadn’t seen or heard from Harry ever since they came back from Earth Two. Jesse had run away, and he had gone off to search for her. Cisco was just glad the breech to Earth Two was closed now. At least they didn’t have to worry about Zoom for the time being, even if it meant feeling guilty knowing Zoom was probably destroying his own earth right now while they were fighting their own war here.

Cisco had been trying for weeks to find Harry, in the hopes that maybe he could go into Central City and help out any way he could. He kind of owed it to Barry, after all. He had tried to steal Barry’s speed from him and nearly made him sick in the process. And then Barry had turned around and saved the guy’s daughter. The least Harry could do was be there for Barry now and offer his help with everything that was going on.

Cisco hadn’t been able to find him, though, and he was worried that maybe he was just wasting his time when he could be doing something else to help Barry.

He felt extremely guilty. He had let Barry push him out of Central City for his own safety, while Barry stayed behind to fight. He had been the hero, and Cisco just felt like the coward who had ran away. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but Barry hadn’t given him much of a choice. He shouldn’t have listened to Barry. He should have strapped on a suit of his own and fought alongside him, not allow himself to be pushed away by Barry’s bigheaded heroic antics. Why did Barry have to be so damn noble anyways? Why couldn’t Barry have just gotten his ass out of Central City while he still could?

Cisco sighed.

Because he was a hero. That’s why.

* * *

“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” Henry said bitterly, running his fingers through his son’s hair, a pained expression on his face.

“Barry begged us not to call you,” Joe said, “Things have been escalating here, getting worse and worse. He didn’t want you to get caught up in all of it. He made me promise not to call you.”

Henry looked away from Barry to glare at Joe.

“If the situation were reversed,” he said darkly, “If all of this was happening to your son without your knowledge and I didn’t tell you because he asked me not to, is that an excuse you would have accepted?”

Joe sighed heavily, seeing things from Henry’s perspective now.

“No,” he said softly, “I wouldn’t have accepted that. I…I’m sorry, Henry.”

Henry didn’t say anything as he looked back to Barry again, looking at his son’s sleeping face. He had dark shadows under his eyes, no doubt from stress and the fact that he had been recovering from a broken nose. His son had been shot by cops, held captive and tortured in some sick MRA facility, and assaulted and stabbed by a bunch of prejudice metahunters, and through all of that, none of them had called him. Henry didn’t think he’d ever forgive that.

And now, here his son laid, recovering from having desperately tried to perform surgery on himself in the bathroom, all in the attempt to remove the very thing that was taking away his freedom. These people, these MRA monsters, had led his son to do this. He had been driven to this by everything that had happened to him. Henry’s eyes filled with tears as he watched his son sleep.

“He must be so scared,” he said brokenly, “He must be terrified.”

“He is,” Joe said sadly, “We _all_ are. Henry…there’s nothing we can do. We can’t stop this from happening. If they try to take Barry away from us…I don’t think we’re going to be able to stop it.”

“Well, we _have_ to,” Henry said seriously, “We’re not going to let them take him from us. I’m not going to let that happen.”

Joe rested his hand on Henry’s shoulder, a sad look on his face. He knew exactly how Henry felt. He would protect Barry with his life if he had to, but in the end, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He knew they were helpless to stop this, and deep down, Henry knew that, too.

* * *

Caitlin could tell Barry was starting to come to. She had noticed the change in his breathing pattern, and his head shifted slightly as he slowly brought himself back to consciousness. She took his hand in her own as she watched his face, waiting for his eyes to open. When they did, Barry blinked several times, his face screwing up in confusion as he tried to figure out where he was and what had happened.

In an instant, Barry’s eyes widened, and he quickly reached up with his free hand to feel the back of his neck, his fingers landing on the bandage that Caitlin had applied there. He felt the bandage for a moment, and then his eyes found hers.

“Did you…?” he started to ask.

Caitlin shook her head sadly at him.

“No, Barry,” she said in a small voice, “I didn’t get it out. There was too much damage already from your attempt to remove it.”

Caitlin didn’t think she’d ever seen a more devastated expression occupy Barry’s face. His eyes filled with tears as he took a deep, shaky breath. Caitlin watched him silently, allowing him his moment of devastation as he processed the fact that he had failed in his attempt to remove his microchip. It was a quiet moment or two later before Barry spoke again.

“How mad at me are you?” he choked, tears in his eyes.

Caitlin shook her head, a sad expression on her face.

“What you did was so stupid, Barry,” she said sadly, “But I’m not mad at you for it. I’m not mad at you for trying. I wish you hadn’t done it, but I can’t be mad at you for what you did.”

Barry’s lip trembled as he looked up at her with watery eyes.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She rested her hand on his shoulder and gave him a small smile.

“If you ever try anything like that again, though,” she said, “I _will_ kill you, Barry Allen.”

Barry managed a weak laugh at that, but it sounded more like a sob.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just…I couldn’t let them control me. I…Caitlin, I’m afraid they’re going to take me away.”

Caitlin nodded understandingly at him, her own eyes becoming watery.

“I know, Barry,” she said sadly, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. You’re not alone, though. We’re still here for you. We’re all still in this together.”

 _For how long, though?_ Barry thought miserably. The metahuman residence zone was nearly complete, and it was only a matter of time before he would find himself standing alone, on the other side of a sixty-foot-high wall, separated from his family and everyone he loved and cared about. He could deal with having his rights and his freedoms taken away, but Barry couldn’t bear the idea of being alone and cut off from everyone he loved.

It was the worst thing the MRA had done so far.

* * *

Barry was shocked when his father entered the medical bay shortly after he had woken up. Apparently, they had all been standing in the cortex, discussing what they were going to do. They couldn’t disable or remove the microchip. They couldn’t smuggle Barry out of the city without getting caught or the device in his neck frying his brain. They couldn’t hide him anywhere, considering he had a tracker on him. The only thing they could think to do was to fight, and to fight would mean sure death.

Joe considered asking Singh for his help. Would the department stand by Barry? Would they protect him and stop him from being taken? Most of them would certainly want to, but Joe couldn’t see how any outcome in that scenario could possibly be in their favor. It’s not like if he had the support of the CCPD, the MRA would just back off and leave Barry alone. No. Fighting would only lead to more bloodshed.

He knew the Arrow would race over in a heartbeat to help them if they asked him to, but the same as with the CCPD, Joe didn’t see how that could possibly end well. The MRA was too powerful. They had too many people and unlimited resources at their disposal. They couldn’t be fought off with sheer force. This was a political fight, not a physical one. Although, things certainly had gotten physical. Metahumans were fighting with the MRA in the streets. It had gotten to the point where people were afraid to leave their homes.

The push for segregated communities was now stronger than ever, and as Henry walked into the med bay to see his son, he wondered just how much time with him he’d have left with him. They were going to do everything in their power to stop this, but if they couldn’t...their time with Barry could be limited.

“Dad,” Barry said in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

Henry tried not to let the hurt show on his face.

“How could you keep this from me, Barry?” he asked quietly, “How could you not tell me everything that’s been going on?”

Barry sighed and looked down at the covers that were on top of him, ignoring the throbbing pain in his neck. His father’s disappointment was worse than any physical pain.

“I wanted to keep you safe,” Barry said quietly.

“Barry, you may be a superhero,” Henry said seriously, “But I’m the father here. _I_ should be keeping _you_ safe, not the other way around. My safety aside, you should have let me be here for you.”

Tears formed in Barry’s eyes as he looked up at him.

“I know, dad,” he choked, “I’m sorry. I was scared. You have no idea how bad things have been here. I didn’t want to worry about anyone else getting hurt because of this. That’s why I asked Cisco to leave, and that’s why I kept you in the dark. I couldn’t stand it if someone else got hurt. I…I was scared, dad. I _am_ scared.”

Henry’s eyes softened then. He took a deep breath and made his way over to the bed to grab his son’s hand.

“I know, Slugger,” he said, “I know you’re scared. I know you had good intentions. Just…please promise me that you’ll never keep something like this from me again. If my son’s in danger, I want to know.”

Barry nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I promise,” he said quietly.

Henry gave his son’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“How are you feeling?” he asked him then, “Any side effects?”

Barry sighed and looked down at his free hand. He held it up then to show his father. It was twitching.

“Caitlin said it might go away, might not,” he told his father quietly, “She said it could have been a lot worse, though.”

“She’s right,” his dad said seriously, “I know you’re not a medical doctor, son, like your old man, but I would think even you would know how dangerous it is to mess with anything involving your spine. What were you thinking?”

“I decided it was worth the risk,” Barry said softly, “The alternative…I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now. I don’t know what the MRA has planned.”

Henry put a gentle hand on Barry’s shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, son,” he said brokenly, “ _I’m_ scared. I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling with all of this, how hard this must be for you.”

Barry looked up towards the ceiling, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

“I wish I had never been struck by that lightning,” he said, his voice cracking, “I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish I could just be Barry Allen again, not meta number 227.”

Henry swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. He never thought he would ever see the day where he’d hear Barry say he wished he had never become the Flash. It was such a fundamental part of who Barry was now, something that Henry had never seen as a very healthy thing, to be honest, but now he found his heart breaking to hear Barry renouncing that side of him, to hear him regretting ever getting his powers.

He hated these people for doing this to his son.

* * *

They all kept a close watch on Barry after that. He assured them he wasn’t going to try anything reckless like that again, but they knew Barry was scared, and a scared man could be driven to do some pretty desperate things, including lying to his family. They wanted to believe him that he wasn’t going to try something like that again, but they knew they couldn’t fully take his word for it all the same. There was always someone with Barry, even after he went home from STAR Labs. They stayed with him and kept a close watch on him.

Barry didn’t mind the company, though. He didn’t really want to be alone with his thoughts right now, with his fears. He didn’t know how much time he would get to spend with any of them, so he made each moment count while they were still together. As promised by the MRA, the construction for their new metahuman zone was completed by the end of the month. Still, they had expected a little more notice before the MRA came knocking at their door.

It was a Thursday night, late, around ten o’clock when Wally came bursting through the door, entering the house with a panicked look on his face.

“They’re rounding people up,” he told them frantically, “All throughout the city, they’re collecting metahumans.”

Joe and Iris both paled and looked over at Barry, who was sitting on the couch, his hands now clenched into fists, knuckles white. They could see the fear on his face and felt themselves be consumed by it as well.

“Come, Barry,” Joe said urgently, grabbing Barry’s hand and moving towards the door to the basement, “We have to hide you.”

“Joe,” Barry said hopelessly, “It doesn’t pay to hide. They’re going to find me. They’ll probably be here soon.”

“We have to try,” Joe said brokenly, opening the door to the basement, “Please, Bar. Come on.”

Barry sighed and looked at Joe with tears in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. He knew it was hopeless, but he would go along with it anyways. Really, they all knew there was nothing they could do, though. There was nothing anyone could do.

Barry slipped on a pair of shoes because it just seemed like a good idea, and then Joe led Barry down the stairs, Iris and Wally following behind them, hearts racing as they rushed to the basement. They couldn’t believe this was happening. It was actually happening. It wasn’t just a threatening what-if now. Barry was really about to be taken.

“Here,” Joe said in a panicked voice, leading Barry over to the far side of the basement.

Barry watched as he tore open a segment of the wall paneling. There was a space there that was just large enough to fit a person with a small frame like himself. Barry stared at it in shock. Joe had prepared for this.

“Get inside, Bar,” Joe said, his voice cracking in panic and sorrow.

They all knew it was pointless, but Barry would go along with it. He would try for them, even though he knew there was no chance he’d be able to hide from the MRA.

“Wait,” Iris squeaked, grabbing Barry’s shoulder and spinning him around to pull him into a tight hug.

A sob escaped her throat as she squeezed him, not wanting to let go of him.

“I love you, Barry. We love you.”

Barry pulled away with tears in his eyes, giving her a broken, watery smile.

“I love you, too,” he said, feeling as if his throat was going to tear in two.

He turned to Joe then.

“Joe,” he said seriously, “When they come. When— _if_ they find me, don’t try to fight them.”

Joe shook his head in anguish, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Barry,” he choked.

“Promise me,” Barry said firmly, “Promise me you won’t fight back—that you’ll just let them take me. It doesn’t pay to fight.”

Joe let out a shaky breath and lowered his hand.

“Okay, Bar,” he said softly.

Barry wiped a tear from his face before moving into the space Joe had prepared. It was crammed, and he was only just barely able fit in it, but he managed to make it work. Joe looked brokenly at Barry for a moment before moving the wall segment back into place, hiding him from sight. It really was hard to detect that there was anything there. The paneling fit into place perfectly, and it blended in with the rest of the wall. If it weren’t for the tracker in Barry, Joe almost would have thought it could work. He placed a hand on the wall there for a moment, tears falling from his eyes.

“Be strong, Barry,” he choked before lowering his hand.

It wasn’t long after that before there was a pounding on their front door. Joe opened it shakily, his heart racing.

A whole group of MRA officers stood outside the door.

“Sir,” the leading officer said, “Our sensors indicate you have a registered metahuman on the premises. Mind if we come in?”

 “Yes,” Joe said, his voice shaking with anger, “I do mind. You’re not coming in here.”

The soldiers ignored him, though, and forced their way through the doorway past Joe, crowding into the living room. Iris and Wally took a step back towards the kitchen in fear.

“Hey!” Joe yelled angrily.

They ignored him, though.

“Meta number 0227 is here somewhere,” the man who was in charge said, looking down at his small handheld device that he was using to track metas, “You three take the upstairs. You three, the basement. The rest stay and search the main level.”

As the rest of the men moved to search the house, Joe came forward in anger. Before he could reach the leading officer, he found himself being stopped by a few of the other soldiers, who each took a hold of one of his arms to subdue him.

“Dad!” Iris yelled in fear.

“Iris, go outside!” Joe said firmly, looking at her and Wally, “Both of you! Get out of here!”

“What about Barry?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Joe said painfully, “Just go.”

Iris nodded tearfully, and they both quickly exited the house. Joe tugged uselessly against the two men who were holding him in place.

“You can’t do this!” he yelled at the leading officer, who was supervising the search of the residence, “You can’t just take him from us! You can’t just tear our family apart!”

“If you don’t stop fighting, I’ll have to bring you in under military obstruction charges,” the military officer said, “Do you really want your kids to lose two family members tonight?”

Joe stopped fighting the two soldiers holding him as his face fell, remembering what he had promised to Barry. That he wouldn’t fight back. That was a lot easier said than done. His eyes filled with tears as he watched the officers search the ground level of the house.

* * *

Barry’s heart was racing as he heard the MRA officers coming down the basement steps, their boots thumping loudly and echoing in his ears. He tried to control his breathing so as not to make too much noise, but he felt like he was suffocating in the small, dark space. He listened to them searching the basement, talking to each other as they consulted their tracking devices. They were going to find him. There was no way they were not going to find him.

Barry felt like his heart was going to explode out his chest as he heard them getting closer. If they didn’t hear his breathing, he felt like they were sure to hear his heart beating. To him, it seemed like it was the loudest sound in the world, blood pumping in his ears, filling the silence between the MRA officers communicating with each other. Barry could hear them knocking on the walls, searching every inch of the house. It was clear to him then. He wasn’t the first metahuman who had tried to hide.

They were going to find him.

* * *


	11. Innocence

* * *

**Innocence**

* * *

Joe glared at the officers as they tore the house apart in their search for Barry, supervised by their leader. Joe wanted to kill the man right then and there.

“He’s a person, you know,” he said in disgust to the officer, glaring at him with a hatred he never thought himself capable of, “He has a life. A family. He’s _human_.”

The officer ignored him, though, as he watched the house be upended in search for the meta. Joe’s breath caught in his throat when he heard a shout from the basement.

“Got him!” someone called up the stairs, “We found him, sir.”

Tears slid down Joe’s face when a moment later they returned from the basement, dragging Barry along with them. Barry was fighting them weakly, but his resistance was halfhearted. He knew it was hopeless.

“Did you scan him?” the leading officer asked, “Did you verify it?”

“It’s number 227,” the other man confirmed as Barry glared at him.

“Alright,” the leader said, satisfied, “Load him up.”

The officers pulled Barry towards the front door, out of the house. Iris bawled as she saw them dragging Barry across the front lawn towards the truck they had waiting.

“Stop resisting,” one of them growled as Barry struggled against them.

Losing his patience, he pulled out a handheld device and pressed a button. Barry’s agonized screams pierced through the night as he collapsed to the ground, his entire body tensing as electricity coursed through him.

“Stop!” Iris cried, taking a step forward, but Wally held her back, “Please stop!”

Barry strained and convulsed on the ground for a few more minutes before the officer finally turned the device off.

After Barry’s screams had subsided, all the fight seemed to have drained out of him. The officers stooped down and picked him up easily, pulling him towards the waiting vehicle, Barry’s feet dragging on the ground as they pulled him along.

Joe stood by Wally and Iris, placing a hand on each of their shoulders as they helplessly watched Barry be loaded into the back of the MRA truck. Joe felt like his legs were going to give out from under him. He had never felt more helpless in his life as he did now, watching his son be taken away from him by the military. He felt sick to his stomach just standing there, not doing anything to stop it.

Barry was only half conscious as they were putting him in the truck, but he managed one last glance at his family before he was shoved into the vehicle. Their hearts all broke when they saw the look in his eyes as he was being taken away from them. They felt as if their family would never be whole again, and they wondered morbidly if this was the last time they were ever going to see him alive.

* * *

Barry was still shaking from being electrocuted. He hardly had the energy to stand in the truck he had been put into, but he wasn’t given much of a choice. It was filled with people, all of them packed in like sardines to the extent where sitting wasn’t even an option. And yet, they were _still_ loading more people into the truck.

For a solid hour, the truck continuously stopped and started again, a new metahuman being forced into the vehicle with each stop. One man tried to jump out and escape one time when the door was opened, but he found himself on the ground rather quickly, screaming in pain as he was electrocuted.

No one tried to jump out after that.

Quiet sobs filled the dark space, all the people standing in the dark with Barry trembling in fear. Few people spoke. A couple of them questioned out loud what was going to happen to them, but for the most part, most of the metahumans just cried or shook in silence.

There was one stop where a man was loaded into the truck, and Barry was shocked to see he was in nothing but a hospital gown. He was loaded in right next to where Barry stood, and Barry put a hand on the guy’s shoulder to steady him when he swayed. The man’s face looked like it had been beaten to a pulp.

“Metahunters?” Barry asked him sadly.

The man nodded.

“I was recovering at St. Mary’s when they took me,” he told him.

Barry shuddered. As awful as this was, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if he had been taken while he was still in the hospital recovering from his own attack.

“I’m lucky, though,” the guy said, “I just have a few broken ribs. There was a guy in there with a broken _leg_. They put him in a different vehicle. I don’t even want to know what’s going to happen to him.”

Barry nodded sadly. The MRA was probably going to kill him because of his inability to walk. Barry felt sick to his stomach for being grateful that he hadn’t broken _his_ leg. He still had a slight limp from his strained ankle, but it was mostly healed now.

After a few more stops, Barry thought the amount of people they were trying to fit into one truck was getting to be ridiculous. They were all crammed for space now, their bodies pressed uncomfortably against each other. Barry wished he had moved away from the door. It was painful to see people’s faces as they were being loaded into the truck, and he was scared he was accidentally going to be pushed out of the vehicle when the door opened. He really didn’t want to be electrocuted again.

Some stops took longer than others. It really just depended on how cooperative the metahuman who was being taken was. There was one stop that seemed to take ages, and after nearly a full half hour had gone by, they could suddenly hear shouting coming from outside the van.

“You bastards!!” they heard a man shout, “You fucking evil bastards! You can’t do this!!”

They could hear a lot of scuffling and commotion outside the van.

“Whoever they are, they must be putting up some fight,” one woman in the truck said.

Their hearts all broke when they heard a little girl’s voice shouting out.

“Daddy!” she cried, “Please, Daddy!!”

Tears welled in Barry’s eyes when he heard the little girl’s cries. This was the worst thing the MRA had done. Separating family.

Barry had assumed that the dad would be the one loaded into the van, but he had been wrong. It was the little girl. His breath caught in his throat as the door opened and the little girl was lifted into the truck, right next to him. The fact that there could be children metahumans hadn’t even crossed his mind. Barry had to fight the bile rising in his throat as he thought of children being put through the same thing he was.

“Daddy!” she shouted out again, “Please don’t let them take me!”

The door slammed shut, though, enveloping them all in darkness again. The little girl sobbed and pushed at the door, but it was pointless. They all swayed slightly as the vehicle lurched forward again, driving to their next location. The father’s yells soon faded as they drove away.

The girl continued to cry and sob as they drove, and Barry was quick to stoop down the best he could in the crammed space. No one protested to the movement, though, as he stooped down next to the little girl, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

The next thing he knew, Barry found the girl’s small arms wrapping tight around his neck to hug him. He winced when she pressed against the still-bandaged wound on the back of his neck, but he ignored it as he squeezed her back tightly, trying to blink the tears from his eyes. Without even thinking about it, Barry stood up straight, now holding the little girl in his arms.

She nuzzled into his neck, sobbing and leaving tear stains on his shirt. Barry rubbed her back soothingly, feeling as if he was about to cry himself. That’s when he realized he was _already_ crying, tears falling down his face now. Somehow, watching this child being separated from her family had been so much worse for him than being separated from his _own_ family.

“Where are we going?” she asked him in a small voice, not removing her face from his neck.

“Shh,” Barry said, patting her back, “It’s okay. We’re just going to a different place for a little while. My name’s Barry. What’s yours?”

She sniffed and pulled away from his shoulder to look at him in the darkness.

“Lucy,” she said quietly.

Barry smiled.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said in a kind voice.

He held her tightly to him, resting her weight on his hip.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy. I’ve got you,” he said, his voice lowering to a whisper now, “I’ve got you.”

Barry held the little girl in his arms the rest of the drive. She didn’t seem to want to be put down. Barry guessed she was around five years old, and she wasn’t exactly light, but he continued to hold her, even as his arms grew sore. It was a little painful, considering he was still recovering from a broken elbow, but his arm was almost healed at this point, and he was still able to hold her weight, shifting most of it on his good arm.

They made a few more stops, and even more people were crammed into the truck. Barry felt like he was going to suffocate with all the bodies pressing in on him, and it was extremely warm in the truck. He stood there in the dark for what felt like hours, Lucy whimpering softly into his shoulder. Barry tried to comfort her, knowing she was terrified by the way she trembled and wouldn’t let go of him for even a second, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other on his chest, tiny fingers curled up in a fist, clutching his shirt. He continued to rub circles into her back, whispering words of comfort to ease her fear.

The truck came to another stop, and everyone waited impatiently for another person to be loaded in with them, but they were all surprised and somewhat relieved when the truck’s engine turned off. It seemed they had finally reached their destination. It wasn’t long, though, before the fear crept in. They all couldn’t wait to get out of the truck, yes, but they were all dreading to find out what was waiting for them when they did.

That didn’t happen right away, though. Instead, they stood there for the longest time, listening to the commotion outside. They could hear MRA officers shouting and people crying, but they didn’t know what was going on, and they were dreading to find out.

* * *

Caitlin often liked to enjoy a good novel for a while before going to bed. TV didn’t really interest her most of the time, and she found books so much more captivating. It was easier to lose herself in a book for a while than it was with a TV show or a movie—and boy, did she need to get lost in a book right now. With everything that was going on with Barry, it was hard not to just sit and her apartment and worry all the time.

And feel guilty.

She hadn’t removed the chip. It had been right there in front of her, but she hadn’t removed it. She hadn’t even _tried_. She had good reason not to, though. The rest of them hadn’t seen the videos. They hadn’t seen the countless surgical videos she had watched in an attempt to find a way to remove the device. She had seen one man get electrocuted to death. She had seen countless people’s spinal cords get crushed by the device during the removal process, multiple brainstems get torn out of people’s skulls as the device was pulled out.

No. She had made the right call. That didn’t mean she didn’t still feel guilty about it, though.

Caitlin’s attention was pulled away from her book when she heard a shout in the distance. She paused on the page she had been on, reading the same line over and over again as she had gotten lost in her thoughts. As she strained her ears, she heard another shout come from outside.

Caitlin closed her book and set it down, forgetting about it entirely as she stood to walk over to the window and look outside. What she saw caused the air to stop moving into her lungs. Looking down at the street below, she could see MRA trucks parked in the street. Officers were pulling people out of their homes and wrestling them into the waiting vehicles.

“Oh my God,” she whispered as she watched the scene below, “Barry.”

She whipped out her phone and called Barry’s number. It went to voicemail after several rings. She tried Joe next.

“Come on,” she growled as the phone rang, “Pick up, pick up.”

“Hello?” Joe answered somberly.

“Joe!” she yelled frantically into the phone as she started grabbing her things to leave, “The MRA! They’re collecting people! They’re pulling them from their homes!”

“I know,” Joe answered quietly, “I was just going to call you. They…they took Barry. He’s gone.”

Caitlin froze, her arm halfway through the sleeve of her jacket.

“He’s gone?” she asked in a small voice.

“They put him in the back of a truck,” Joe told her, his voice cracking, “They have him now.”

“Oh, my God,” Caitlin whispered.

* * *

Two hours. That’s how much longer they stayed in the truck. For two solid hours, they waited in the dark, nerves on end as they waited to be let out. Barry was soaked in sweat now from the heat of all the bodies pressing against him, and his arms were shaking with Lucy’s weight in them. He had been holding her for nearly three hours now, and he had been standing in this vehicle even longer before that.

After waiting for what felt like a lifetime, they were all somewhat relieved when the doors were opened. Barry never thought he’d actually be happy to make it to the segregation zone, but that’s what four hours of standing in a crammed, dark truck does to you.

Lucy whimpered into Barry’s neck as he climbed down out of the truck along with everyone else, still holding her in his arms. The guards were fast-paced and impatient. They ushered them along in the night, yelling and shoving some of them to make them move faster to wherever it was they wanted them to go. Barry reluctantly set Lucy down, no longer able to carry her after ten minutes of walking. She walked alongside him then, holding his hand the entire time.

They finally came to a stop in the middle of a large street, and the MRA officers had them stand as a group in the middle of the road. Barry looked around and could see other groups around them, broken apart according to whichever truck they had been shoved into.

The officers’ attention seemed to be on other groups at the moment, and they ended up just standing there for the longest time, waiting to find out what was going to happen next. Every now and then they would hear a gunshot go off, and they all would flinch. Lucy clung to Barry’s side, and Barry held her close, trying to sooth her, running his fingers through her curly, blonde hair.

It was a while before they were approached by a group of officers.

“We’ll be splitting you up into groups of six,” the leading officer called out to them in a hard voice, “Six to a unit. After we split you up, we’ll give you the address of your assigned house or apartment. Pay attention because we won’t be telling you twice.”

With that, the officers stepped forward and started splitting them into groups.

“We need one more here,” one officer said, looking at the group of five he had pulled aside.

Suddenly, he stepped toward where Barry stood and quickly grabbed Lucy’s hand.

“No!” Lucy cried out, trying desperately to maintain her grasp on Barry’s hand.

The officer pulled her away easily, though, and started pulling her towards the group he wanted to assign her to.

“Wait!” Barry called out, stepping forward under the risk of being shocked again, “Wait, _please_! Please don’t separate us!”

The officer looked back at him with a hard look on his face.

“I’m…” Barry said, swallowing back the lump in his throat, “I’m her father. Please don’t separate us.”

To Barry’s immense surprise, the officer’s face softened. He looked down uncertainly at the crying girl in his grasp and then back at Barry with a conflicted look on his face. After a moment, he sighed and nodded.

“Very well then,” he said quietly, and Barry felt an incredible wave of relief wash over him as the officer directed the two of them to a different group, keeping them together.

It was the first hint of compassion Barry had seen from an MRA officer. It was easier to think of them as evil most of the time, but they were still people, too, and they couldn’t be _that_ heartless, could they? At least, not all of them.

After they had all been put into groups of six, they were given their assigned units and each group was led by a couple officers to their unit. It was quite a walk. Barry could tell Lucy was dead tired, so he ended up picking her up again to carry her, ignoring the protesting ache in his arms. When they walked past the body of a dead man lying on the ground with a bullet hole through his head, Barry covered Lucy’s eyes. He vowed to himself to protect her innocence in any way he could while they were here.

By the time they finally reached the small house they had been assigned to, it was well past midnight. Barry had been taken from his home around seven, and the whole process had taken nearly six hours. They all were exhausted and worn down by the time they reached the dark house.

“Remain in your unit until morning,” one of the officers instructed them, “Anyone caught out in the streets after dark will be shot on sight. Further instructions await you inside.”

They all shakily walked up the path leading to the house and Barry, leading the group of six, hesitantly opened the front door and walked inside. The house was dark as they walked through the front door. One of the other metahumans he was grouped with flipped the light switch, and they were all relieved to find that they at least had electricity when the lights went on.

The last person into the house closed the door behind him and then turned towards the rest of them.

“Should I lock it?” he asked them uncertainly.

Barry nodded.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said, “If an officer comes to the door, we can always unlock it, but who knows who else might come to the door?”

“I doubt anyone is going to risk leaving their unit,” one woman pointed out.

“Still,” Barry said, “Better to be safe.”

The guy by the door nodded and locked it.

Barry turned and took in the house then. They were all standing in the living room. Most of the house was bare, with little to no furniture remaining after the last occupants had vacated it.

“They didn’t leave much, did they?” one of the two women there said.

“I heard they paid the residents in this area a ridiculous sum of money to vacate,” the man by the door told them, “Though I doubt they were given much of a choice.”

“I’m sure most of them took the money happily, though,” the other of the two men said, “This was a low income area.”

And the house definitely reflected that. It was _tiny_. Just a small living room, a miniscule kitchen, a bathroom, and one bedroom. The wallpaper throughout the house was pealing and yellowing, no doubt from years of tobacco use from the occupant. The whole house smelled like cats and cigarette smoke, with just a faint hint of stale urine. Whoever had lived here hadn’t really kept the place up.

“We’ll make the most of it,” Barry sighed, walking over to set Lucy down on the tattered couch that remained as one of the few pieces of furniture in the whole house.

He turned to the rest of the group then.

“First thing’s first,” he said to them, “Introductions. I’m Barry Allen.”

“Adam Emmerich,” the guy by the door said flatly.

He was younger, for sure younger than Barry. He looked like he could be in high school or maybe college at the most. He had a strong, athletic build to him, though, and Barry couldn’t help but think he would be a valuable member to their group as far as physical ability went.

“Felix Weiss,” the older man introduced himself.

He looked like he could nearly be in his seventies or maybe even eighties, for sure far too old to be going through something like this. His back was slightly hunched, and he had snow-white hair that was thinning near the top of his head. Barry wondered silently to himself how a man of his age and in his condition was going to survive in this place.

“I’m Elizabeth Waldeck,” the younger of the two woman told them then.

She looked to be around Barry age, maybe mid to late twenties, and she was a tiny thing, maybe 5’3”, 5’4” at the most and extremely petite. She tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear and offered them all a small smile. Barry could tell right away that she was the type of person to make the most of whatever situation she found herself in, and he knew he was going to come to appreciate her positive attitude because at this point, they needed all the positivity they could get.

“Katherine Metz,” the last woman introduced seriously, “But you can all call me Kathy.”

She seemed to be middle-aged, maybe mid-forties. She was short, like Elizabeth, but a little more on the plump side. She had a kind, sad face. Unlike Elizabeth, she had a serious expression. Most of them did, though, and everyone, even Elizabeth, had puffy eyes from crying. No amount of positivity could mask the pain of being taken away from your family.

“And this is Lucy,” Barry introduced finally, gesturing to the little girl he was standing near, still holding her hand.

Lucy looked shyly up at them all and squeezed Barry’s hand.

“We know,” Elizabeth said, offering him a small smile, “We were in the same truck as you.”

“That was a really good thing you did there,” Felix told him, gesturing towards Lucy sitting on the couch.

Barry shrugged slightly and gave Lucy’s hand a small squeeze.

“I couldn’t let her be by herself,” he said simply, “Although, I’m sure the people in the other unit would have looked after her, too.”

“You’d be surprised by how selfish some people can be,” Kathy said darkly, “Most people are going to be out for themselves here.”

“Well, I think we’re stronger if we stay together,” Elizabeth said firmly, “We’re all stuck with each other now. We might as well support each other.”

Barry smiled at her. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“Okay,” he said to them, “Now that we all know each other, we need to set up a game plan.”

“A game plan?” Adam said, stepping away from the door and moving closer to them, “What do you mean?”

“We need to secure the house,” Barry told them, “Make sure all the doors and windows are locked at the very least. Check all the kitchen cabinets for food and split it evenly if there is any. Something tells me they’re not exactly going to be feeding us five course meals here.”

Barry was just lucky that without his powers, he didn’t have a supermetabolism anymore or else he was sure to starve quickly.

They all nodded at him.

“What about the instructions?” Felix asked, “The officer said there’d be instructions inside.”

Barry had almost forgotten about that. He nodded and quickly made his way to the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a single sheet of paper sitting on the counter. Barry picked up the paper and scanned it over quickly. There were only four instructions. After glancing over it, Barry read it out loud to everyone, quieting his voice so that Lucy wouldn’t hear it from the living room.

_Meta Segregation Zone Instructions:_

  1. _A curfew has been set in place within the zone. Anyone caught outside of their assigned dwellings between the hours of nine PM and five AM will be shot on sight. No questions asked._
  2. _Anyone caught trying to leave the zone will be shot on sight. Officers are stationed along all areas of the wall, and attempts to escape will not be tolerated. Even upon somehow managing to surpass the guards and the wall, any meta that steps foot past the zone limits will be electrocuted to the point of mortality._
  3. _Food will be distributed at seven AM each morning. The food dispersal location is at 452 Washington Street. It is first come, first serve, and each unit will only receive a certain amount of food._
  4. _Any acts of rebellion, attempts to violate zone regulations, or resisting MRA officers will be punishable by immediate death._



When Barry finished reading, he looked up at everyone.

“Well, they sure do keep it short and sweet, don’t they?” he said bitterly.

“Clearly they’re not playing around,” Kathy said quietly, “They’re not too hesitant about killing us.”

“Well, if we just keep our heads down and obey the rules, we should be fine,” Felix assured them, “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Barry wasn’t usually the type to just keep his head down and let things happen, but he had to agree with Felix at this point. He couldn’t afford to step out of line here. Doing so might get himself shot, and this wasn’t just about him anymore. He had Lucy to look after now, and none of them could afford to take any stupid risks. Not that he had been planning on it. He felt so useless now without his powers. There really was nothing he _could_ do to rebel.

“Alright,” Barry said determinedly, setting the paper back down on the counter, “Let’s get to work securing the house. Then we’ll scour the rooms for any food or supplies we can find.”

They set about locking all the doors and windows then.

“We’ll have to board these up as soon as we can,” Barry said, looking nervously at the glass windows, “Someone can still break through these easily.”

“Who do you think is going to break in?” Adam asked him skeptically.

“Listen,” Barry said seriously, “Everything seems all structured and orderly now, but we don’t know if it’s going to stay that way. You heard the instructions. There’s limited food, and it’s first come, first serve. It’s only a matter of time before we have other metahumans at our front step, looking to raid us. We have to be prepared.”

“Wow, you have very little faith in people, don’t you?” Elizabeth asked.

Barry shook his head.

“Actually, I have a lot of faith in people,” he said, “But that’s no reason not to be prepared. Even the best people are willing to do desperate things when they’re scared and hungry. I try to see the best in people, but I also work in law enforcement, and I see the uglier sides of humanity every day.”

“You’re a cop?” Kathy asked him.

“Well, that explains a lot,” Elizabeth said, smiling at him.

Barry looked at her in confusion.

“You taking charge,” she elaborated, “And your sense of duty to do what is right, taking Lucy under your wing and all.”

Barry laughed lightly.

“I appreciate the compliment, but actually, I’m not a cop. I’m—I _was_ a CSI.”

Barry felt a wave of sadness wash over him then, but he shook it off quickly. He couldn’t dwell on his old life right now. He couldn’t let himself think about everything he had lost. He couldn’t wonder about his family and what they were doing right now, how they were handling all of this. He had to focus on this situation and how to make the best of it.

“Come on,” Barry said then, clearing his mind of everything else, “We need to look over the rest of the house.”

With that, he became all business, scouring over the entire house, casing his surroundings—like Oliver had taught him.

“We have running water,” Felix told them, trying the sink in the bathroom.

“Good,” Barry said, “Start looking for buckets. Pots. Anything we can fill up.”

“Why?” Kathy asked him.

“We have running water now,” Barry said, “But we don’t know if it’s going to stay that way. We should have water stored up in case they turn the power and water off on us. Also, as soon as possible, we have to start looking for wood. It’s warm outside now, but come winter, if they turn the power off, we’ll freeze to death if we don’t have wood to burn.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Wow. This guy had thought of everything.

They found a few buckets and a large tote basin in the basement, and they set to work filling them with water, ignoring the occasional gunshot they heard from outside. They didn’t need to look out the window to know what was going on out there. People were clearly still being led to their units, and from the sound of it, some people weren’t cooperating. They cringed with each gunshot they heard, whether it was close or in the distance, knowing that each one probably meant that a life had been ended.

Rummaging through the cupboards and the fruit cellar downstairs, they found a handful of cans of food that had been left behind. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“No wonder they left it behind. It’s expired,” Kathy said, frowning at the can of peas in her hand.

“It’s still good,” Barry said dismissively, “Canned food keeps for a long time. The expiration dates are just the companies’ way of protecting themselves. Most canned foods keep well past the expiration dates.”

He turned to all of them then.

“We’ll keep all the food downstairs in the cellar,” he said to everyone, “It’s probably best not to keep it on the ground level. No one ever goes in the cellar alone. We have to make sure we keep it divided evenly.”

“No way,” Adam said crossing his arms, “I say we split it up now. I’ll keep my share someplace separate. I don’t know any of you, and I don’t trust anyone not to go down there and help themselves to it.”

Barry sighed.

“Hence the ‘no one goes in the cellar alone’ rule,” he said impatiently.

“Adam,” Elizabeth said seriously, “Come on. If we’re going to get through this, we have to trust each other.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly, “All the food goes to the cellar then.”

After bringing the food down to the cellar, Barry ran his hands through his hair, thinking about what else they may need to do. It was all so overwhelming. The rest of them weren’t really contributing any ideas, and they were all looking to him to call the shots. He didn’t mind taking on the leadership role—at least that way he could control things—but he didn’t exactly enjoy the pressure that came with it.

“What else?” Felix asked him, waiting for him to instruct them.

Barry sighed and put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. She had been following him around throughout all their precaution tasks, staying close to his side the entire time as they worked to fill water basins and search the house. Barry didn’t mind, though. He liked having her in his sight at all times. He had already explained to her that she couldn’t go outside for any reason, but he was still worried she would run off or do something when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t even want her looking out the window, afraid of what her young eyes might see.

“I think that’s all we can do for tonight,” Barry said to them, “Tomorrow we’ll scour the city and see if we can find anything laying around that could be useful. We’ll check the dumpsters. I’m sure as people were moving out of the area they threw away a lot stuff that could be of use to us.”

Then Barry thought of something.

“What does everyone have on them?” he asked them all urgently, “Does anyone have anything that could be of use?”

“I have my cellphone,” Elizabeth said, “But I doubt it’s going to be of much use. I already checked. I have no signal.”

“I don’t either,” Adam said, pulling out his phone.

Barry nearly jumped with excitement. They had two cellphones! He just wished he had grabbed his before he had been taken. It was probably still sitting on the coffee table in the living room where he had been sitting before Wally came bursting in to warn them.

“Put your phone in airplane mode,” Barry told them both excitedly, “And then switch it back right away. It’ll reboot the signal, and then maybe it will connect to a stronger service tower.”

They quickly did as they were told, everyone waiting on edge to see if it would work. Elizabeth’s hopeful expression fell.

“I still don’t have signal,” she said, crestfallen.

“Me neither,” Adam said in irritation.

“Here, give me your phone,” Barry said, holding his hand out.

Adam reluctantly handed over his cellphone, giving Barry a weary look.

Barry quickly entered _*3001#12345#*_ into the phone and hit send, putting the phone into a field test mode.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m doing a field test,” Barry said, his eyes not leaving the screen, “A few empty bars in the corner of the screen doesn’t tell us anything. A number does. It’ll give us a more accurate idea of how much service we have.”

The rest of them all exchanged looks with each other, but none of them said anything. This guy seemed to know _everything_.

“It looks like we’re close,” Barry told them excitedly, handing Adam’s phone back to him, “We have -132 decimal miliwatts of signal. We don’t have _no_ signal. We just don’t have _enough_. That’s a good sign. If we can just get that number above -100 dBm’s, we should be able to make a call. I bet we can find signal somewhere in this zone. In the meantime, power down your phones. Save the batteries. Tomorrow, we’ll see if there’s a place in the zone where we can get a signal.”

That would be amazing. If they managed to get a signal, maybe Barry would be able to contact his family. The rest of them all looked hopeful, too, clearly thinking along the same lines as him.

“Anyone have anything else?” Barry asked them.

They all shook their heads regretfully. Most of them were like Barry and had been at home when they had been taken. They didn’t exactly sit at home with survival kits hidden on their person.

Barry sighed. He didn’t have anything either. All he had on him was a watch, which would come in handy for staying within the curfew times but nothing really else. His clothes were fairly basic as well. Just jeans, a t-shirt and a sweatshirt. He was lucky that he had had the sense to slip on a pair of shoes before Joe had led him down to the basement.

“Alright,” Barry said tiredly.

He looked at his watch. It was already past two AM.

“We should all get some sleep. We need to get up early to beat everyone to the food dispersal. We need to leave at five, right when the curfew ends. I guarantee we won’t be the only ones, and we have a long walk to get to Washington Street.”

“You know this area?” Felix asked him.

Barry nodded.

“CSI, remember?” he said, “I’ve been to most parts of this city for different crime scenes.”

And as the Flash, but he wasn’t about to tell them that. He wasn’t going to tell _anyone_ here that he is— _was_ the Flash. That would be very dangerous information to give to anyone, even if they were all in the same boat. He wondered how they would all react, if they knew that they were sharing a unit in the meta segregation zone with the Flash himself. They would probably hate him, hate him for not stopping all of this sooner while he still could. He should have never gotten in that vehicle. He should have never allowed them to scan him, to put those handcuffs on him. He had given away the only power he had. His speed.

Like every other mistake Barry had made in his life, though, he couldn’t waste time and energy dwelling on it. What’s done is done. He couldn’t go back. He could only move forward.

“We should all sleep in the living room,” he said tiredly to them, “It’s probably safer if we stay in one room together, and it’s not like there’s a bed in the bedroom anyways.”

With that, they all moved to the living room. They thought it was only fair to take the cushions off the ratty couch. Someone could sleep on the somewhat soft, but springy, frame, and someone else could take the cushions.

Felix was older and had major back problems, so they let him have the cushions. Barry wanted Lucy to take the couch, but she insisted that she wanted to stay close to him, so Kathy ended up taking the couch, instead. The rest of them made due with the floor. At least it was carpeted, even if said carpet reeked of cigarettes.

Barry took off his sweatshirt and rolled it up for Lucy to use as a pillow. Somehow, however, she ended up using _him_ as a pillow, curling up against his side under his arm, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She was so exhausted, she was asleep within minutes.

As Barry looked at her, sleeping peacefully, her long eyelashes spanning out over the tops of her cheeks, he felt his eyes fill with tears. This was no place for a child. She was too gentle, too innocent. Watching her sleep, Barry vowed to himself that he was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe, no matter what it took. She may not be his daughter, but she was somebody’s little girl. Barry would do anything to keep her from harm, and he was going to do his best to protect her innocence in the process.

As Barry laid his head back and closed his eyes, he finally, _finally_ , allowed himself to relax a little. Sleep didn’t come easily to him, though. With all the craziness over, Barry finally let himself think about his family.

He wondered what they were doing right now. He was certain they were probably worried sick about him, but what were they _doing_? He hoped they wouldn’t do anything too reckless to help him. They may be human, meaning the MRA couldn’t just shoot them for acting out like they could him, but that didn’t mean the MRA wouldn’t do anything to them if they tried to fight for him. He hoped that whatever it was they were doing, they were safe. He could deal with anything that happened to him, as long as his family was safe.

With a million thoughts racing in his mind, it took him a while, but eventually Barry managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep. He needed all the rest he could get. He didn’t know what tomorrow might bring.

* * *


	12. Donut Dumpster Diving

* * *

**Donut Dumpster Diving**

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” Joe choked, burying in his face in his hands as he sat on the couch in his living room, “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop them from taking him.”

“I don’t blame you,” Henry said quietly, wiping the stray tears from his face, “I know there was nothing you could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” Iris asked no one in particular, her voice shaky.

“Barry’s fine,” Wally assured her, “It’s not like they’re killing everybody. They’re just taking them to the segregation zone.”

“I heard a lot of metahumans have already been killed tonight,” Joe said darkly, “Anyone who fought back.”

“They hit all the hospitals, too,” Caitlin told them, “They…they killed any metahumans who wouldn’t be able to last inside the wall. They just put them down like a horse with a broken leg.”

“Barry’s not injured, though,” Iris said surely, “He still has a limp maybe, but they wouldn’t kill him for that, would they?”

“Probably not,” Joe said, “But he was resisting them.”

“He stopped, though,” Wally pointed out, “After…after they shocked him. He stopped fighting them.”

“I just hope Barry’s being smart,” Henry said fearfully, “I hope he’s keeping his head down and not doing anything that’s going to get himself killed.”

“Barry’s not dumb,” Iris said firmly, “He won’t do anything stupid to draw attention to himself.”

“No, he’s not dumb,” Henry agreed, “But he _is_ a hero. Who’s to say he won’t risk his own life in order to protect someone else’s? He really needs to just worry about himself right now, but Barry’s not going to do that. He’s going to be trying to help as many people as he can.”

No one could argue with him there. They all knew it to be true. Barry would always put everyone else’s wellbeing above his own. It was just in his nature. He couldn’t afford to do that now, though, and it was this idea that scared them all more than anything.

* * *

“Don’t open the door for anyone but us or an MRA official,” Barry instructed firmly, “If another metahuman comes to the door, don’t answer it.”

Kathy nodded.

Satisfied, Barry reached for the knob on the door.

“Barry!” Lucy cried, tears streaming down her face.

She didn’t want him to go. She had been crying ever since he had told her he was going to be leaving for a little while but that he would try to be back soon.

He had tried to leave without her waking up, but the second Barry had gotten up, Lucy had clearly noticed the absence of his warmth next to her, and she had woken up immediately.

“I have to go, Lucy,” Barry said painfully, “I have to get some food for us, okay? You said you were hungry, right? I’m going to come back with some food.”

“I don’t care,” Lucy cried, “I want you to stay.”

“You see this lady here?” Barry said, pointing at Kathy, “This is Kathy. She’s going to take care of you while I’m gone, and I need you to be a good girl for her. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Lucy looked tearfully back and forth between Barry and Kathy.

“I don’t want Kathy,” she sobbed, “I want you.”

Barry swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“I’ll be back soon,” he told her, “I promise.”

After hugging her tightly, Barry walked out the door, the others following. He had offered to go alone, but they had all insisted that it was too dangerous for just one of them to go to the food dispersal alone. Kathy remained behind to look after Lucy, but the other three had insisted on accompanying Barry to retrieve the food.

They left right at the crack of dawn, right after five when the curfew ended. They maintained a brisk pace, Barry leading the way since he knew the city so well. They just hoped to get there before too many other people did. They clearly weren’t the only ones. The street was far from empty of other metahumans, all looking to get to the food dispersal first.

They also came across several MRA officers along the way, and although it made them nervous, none of the officers bothered them. They simply patrolled the streets, looking for any metahumans that might be causing trouble. No one was causing trouble, though. Everyone was too focused on getting to the food dispersal first.

They were about halfway to the food dispersal location when Barry suddenly stopped in his tracks, struck by a sudden thought.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked impatiently.

“We…we shouldn’t go to the dispersal,” Barry said suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Felix asked.

Barry just shook his head and stepped away from them, turning his back to them and running his hands through his hair as he thought it all through. Of course. How had he not thought of it before?

He spun around then and spoke to them with urgency.

“The grocery stores,” he said seriously, “Gas stations. Diners. Bakeries. They’re all bound to still have some food in some places. Right now, everyone else is thinking about getting to the food dispersal first. If we search the other buildings for food now, we can beat everyone else to it while they’re distracted.”

“That’s genius!” Elizabeth exclaimed, smiling at him with an impressed look on her face, “Barry, your ideas just keep on coming.”

Barry smiled back at her.

Adam, however, was not smiling.

“What if you’re wrong?” he asked seriously, “What if there _is_ no food anywhere else? Then we would have wasted our chance to get today’s dispersal.”

“There will be another dispersal tomorrow,” Barry pointed out, “But if I’m right about this, that food isn’t going to be there long. I guarantee it will be gone by noon as other people realize the same thing. After the dispersal, that’s where most people are going to go. It’s going to be Black Friday times ten. We have a chance to beat everyone else to it right now while they’re all distracted. We can’t afford _not_ to take this risk. If I’m right, it’ll be more than worth it.”

Adam sighed, not quite convinced.

“Alright,” Barry sighed, “If you want, two of us can go to the dispersal, while the other two check the local businesses for food.”

“I’ll go to the dispersal,” Adam said firmly, “ _I_ like to play it safe. You three go ahead and check the stores. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Barry said, frowning, “One of us should come with you. No one should ever go off alone.”

Adam shook his head.

“If you’re right about this, you’re going to need all the hands you can get,” he pointed out, “I can carry whatever rations the MRA intends to give us by myself, but you’re going to need as many people as possible to help carry everything if it turns out there’s as much food as you say there is.”

Barry frowned at him, weighing the risks and their options.

“Just go,” Adam said irritably, “I’ll be fine. You, yourself, originally wanted to do this alone. Besides, we really don’t have time to argue about this right now.”

“Fine,” Barry sighed.

Adam was right. They didn’t have time to argue with each other. He gave Adam directions to get to the food dispersal, even though he would probably be able to just follow the crowd, considering that’s where everyone was going.

“Be careful,” Barry said seriously to him as they were parting ways.

“You too,” Adam said before turning and walking off without another word.

Adam really preferred to do things himself, much like Barry, but Barry was worried that that was going to be the death of him here. The guy was just a kid. Wally’s age, if not younger. Barry really didn’t feel right about letting him go off on his own, but Adam was right. It made more sense for the rest of them to all go ahead with Barry’s plan.

“Alright,” Barry said to Felix and Elizabeth after a moment, “Let’s get moving. I believe there was a grocer just down the street from here.”

They found a grocery store just down the street like Barry said, and they tried to slip in unseen. It wasn’t even locked. When it was vacated, nobody had bothered to secure the abandoned business. Their hearts all sank when they walked into the store. The shelves were all empty, all of the food products having been taken when the owner was forced to vacate.

“Adam was right,” Felix said sadly, “There’s nothing here.”

Barry just shook his head.

“I didn’t expect there to be food sitting out on the shelves,” he said, “Of course the owner would take his merchandise with him. We’re here to check the back. There’s bound to be food there. Old bread. Expired produce. Anything the owner would have felt wasn’t worth taking with them.”

Barry led them to the back of the store, leading them to the employee entrance. Their hearts all leapt when they turned the lights on. Barry had been right. There was still food there. Old bread, expired cans, produce that was no longer fresh. They all grinned.

“Okay,” Barry said, all business, “Get a cart and start grabbing stuff. No dairy or meat. We can’t risk one of us getting sick. It wouldn’t be worth it, but be sure to grab any grain products you see, stuff with the most calories.”

Elizabeth laughed and spun a circle before hugging him.

“We couldn’t be luckier than to have been on the same truck as you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Barry blushed, but he didn’t really have a chance to respond as Elizabeth ran to grab a shopping cart to fill with food. When she returned with the cart, Barry suddenly frowned, looking at it.

“Wait a second,” he said, stopping her before she could put any food in the cart.

Barry turned and looked around him for a second before walking over to the doorway and picking up the floor mat. He placed it in the cart, curving it so it covered all the sides of the cart.

Elizabeth looked at him questioningly, and Barry explained.

“When we leave here, there’s a good chance we’re going to be seen. If we can hide the fact that we’re pushing food down the street, that would be ideal. Some people are bound to figure it out anyways, though, but hopefully we won’t get bothered by any of them. I think it’s a bit soon for that. Most people are still pretty calm right now. My worry is more that they’ll see us walking with food and get the idea to come here themselves.”

“Good thinking,” Felix said before starting to look through the food that was there.

He started throwing all the bread in the cart first. Elizabeth pointed out that the bread was going to get crushed because it was on the bottom, but Barry said that was a good thing. They could fit more in the cart that way. Barry helped them decide what to take and what to leave, being sure to take food that was nutritious and would keep longer, which was mostly the canned stuff.

“What about this?” Elizabeth asked him, holding up a head of browned lettuce, “The inside should still be good.”

Barry shook his head.

“Not enough nutritional value,” he said, “It’s mostly water and there’s too much fiber. Our bodies will burn more calories digesting it than we’ll get from it. Besides, we have enough canned vegetables.”

She threw the lettuce aside then and kept looking with the rest of them. Barry smiled when he laid eyes on one of the items on the backroom shelf.

“This is perfect,” he said, grabbing a can off the shelf.

“What is it?” Felix asked him, looking at the can.

“Ensure,” Barry answered happily, “It’s a nutritional supplement for gaining and maintaining weight. My doctor used to make me drink them sometimes.”

Barry felt a weight settle in his stomach as he thought of Caitlin then. The feeling passed, though, as he quickly pushed her from his mind. He wasn’t allowing himself to think of _any_ of his friends and family now. It was too painful, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted at the moment. He needed to focus on survival right now. Everyone was looking to him to make decisions.

“I thought you said no dairy,” Elizabeth said, frowning as she read the ingredients.

“It’s canned, though,” Barry said, “And it only just expired. Plus, it has potassium benzoate in it, which is a preservative. It should still be good.”

“What about this then?” Felix asked, holding up a can of sweetened condensed milk.

Barry took it from him and looked it over.

“This should be good, too,” he said, “As long as we use it right away, it’s fine. And it’ll be a good source of fat.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose but smiled anyways as she started grabbing cans off the shelf.

They continued on that way then, all of them throwing stuff in the cart, Felix and Elizabeth both holding up different things for Barry to either shake his head at them or nod, indicating that they should take it. They didn’t stop until the cart was full. The other two wanted to keep adding food, but Barry told them not to. They didn’t want the cart to be overflowing or someone else might see what was in it while they were walking down the street. Barry put another floor mat over the top of it to hide it, and they quickly left the grocer.

They all were nervous, walking down the street with a cart full of food. They didn’t come across too many people, though. Most people were at the food dispersal by now. The few last minute stragglers they crossed paths with eyed the cart curiously, but no one bothered them. Most were too focused on getting to the dispersal.

There was a tense moment when they passed an MRA officer. She eyed them suspiciously, but she didn’t stop them. They weren’t really breaking any rules, after all. They were simply transporting a cart full of food. There was no rule against that that they knew of, and they weren’t causing any trouble.

The next officer they passed wasn’t so lenient.

“Hold it!” he said to them, stopping them in their tracks as he approached them and their cart.

Barry’s eyes darted to the assault rifle in the MRA officer’s hands, looking it over. He needed to learn everything he could about the MRA and what they would be facing against. It was a M16A2 Rifle. 5.56 caliber. A military grade weapon, capable of shooting from a distance of at least 500 meters, if not more.

Barry didn’t consider himself an expert in military weaponry, but he knew enough about it to know that the MRA had some serious weaponry in their arsenal. This gun alone could be used both as an automatic and a semiautomatic rifle. Lightweight. Air-cooled. Gas-operated. Magazine-fed. Barry filed all of this information away for future reference. He didn’t know if it would come as any use to him if he found himself at the end of the barrel of one of these, but it was still good to know what they were up against.

Barry put himself between the others and the MRA officer as he walked up to them.

“What are you three doing?” he asked, “Why aren’t you at the food dispersal?”

“Is there a rule against that?” Barry asked defiantly.

The officer struck Barry in the face with the butt of his gun, causing him to stumble backwards. Elizabeth steadied him and glared at the officer.

“You’ll want to address me with more respect, meta,” the officer warned.

Barry glared at him but did his best to swallow his pride as he nodded reluctantly, wiping the blood away from his split lip.

“What are you transporting?” the officer asked then, looking at the cart.

He didn’t wait for an answer but instead lifted up the mat that was covering the cart. His expression softened when he saw what was in it. He looked back at them then, a thoughtful expression on his face.

They all waited nervously for him to say something, for him to confiscate their food from them or shoot them for not following the rest of the crowd, for not doing what everyone else was doing. They were surprised when he finally spoke, though.

“Go,” he said quietly after a moment, “Get back to your unit.”

Barry nodded, shocked by the officer’s sudden understanding. The officer had a strange look on his face. If Barry didn’t know any better, he would almost say it was pity.

They didn’t need telling twice. Barry quickly covered the food in their cart back up again, and the three of them continued the rest of the way back to the house, not looking back as they parted ways with the officer, afraid that he would change his mind about letting them go on their way with their haul.

They were extremely relieved when they made it back to the house with the cart. They were quick to get it inside, Barry simply lifting the entire cart over the front steps and forcing it through the doorway, determined to get it in the house before anyone saw.

“Barry!” Lucy yelled when he walked through the door, “You came back!”

“I told you I would,” he said, kneeling down to wrap his arms around her, grinning ear to ear, “I just had to do some grocery shopping.”

Kathy raised her eyebrows when she looked at the cart that was now in their living room. She curiously lifted up the mat that was covering it, and her face split into a wide grin then. It was the first time Barry had seen her smile since they had gotten there.

“Let me guess,” she laughed, “You didn’t get this from the MRA.”

“Nope,” Elizabeth said happily, “Barry just had another stroke of brilliance.”

“Is Adam back yet?” Barry asked Kathy nervously.

“No,” she said, looking around at them, now noticing that Adam wasn’t with them, “You guys separated?”

“He decided to go to the dispersal,” Felix explained, “He didn’t want to chance it.”

Kathy nodded, understanding.

“Should we be worried?” Elizabeth asked, the smile leaving her face.

“Not yet,” Barry said, “I didn’t really expect him to be back this soon, yet. It’s probably going to take him a while with the crowd there. In the meantime, we should make another trip. Kathy, could you start bringing this all down to the cellar? Don’t bring the bread down, though. It’ll mold faster in the dark basement. Keep it upstairs for now.”

Kathy nodded and the others quickly left again, much to Lucy’s anguish. They were all sweating by now as they walked down the street. Felix and Elizabeth were confused when Barry turned down a different street.

“Aren’t we going back to the store?” Felix asked him.

“No,” Barry said, “We picked over the best stuff from there. Leave the rest for someone else. We should find a different place to search.”

The other two looked at each other but then shrugged, deciding not to argue with him. He hadn’t led them astray thus far, so they trusted him and his decisions fully.

Barry led them to a bakery next, knowing there was a good chance they would find food left behind there. Bakeries were supposed to keep their products as fresh as possible, so it was more than likely they would find some stale donuts and bagels that the owner had decided to leave behind. There wasn’t any food in the back room, though, and they were all discouraged at first. Until they checked the dumpster.

The previous owner had simply thrown most of their old merchandise away rather than store it in the back like the other owner had. Thankfully, he or she had put most of it in large garbage bags first, so it was still good and not contaminated by anything else in the dumpster. Barry had never thought there would come a time in his life where he would be dumpster diving for old donuts, but there’s a first for everything, right?

The trip back to the house didn’t go as smoothly as the first time, though. There were more people in the streets now, on their way back from the dispersal, carrying small wooden boxes of food they had gotten from the MRA. People were more than a little curious about the black garbage bags Barry and the others were carrying and eyed them suspiciously. Barry was starting to sweat from all the eyes on them. Some people asked them what they were carrying, but they didn’t answer them. They just quickened their pace.

“Don’t run,” Barry muttered to the other two, “It’ll look more suspicious. Just maintain your pace.”

Suddenly, a man—another metahuman—reached out and grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, forcing her to drop her bag and all three of them to come to a halt.

“Whatcha got there, girl?” the man asked, not letting go of her arm.

Barry quickly dropped the bags he was carrying and didn’t hesitate to punch the man in the face, sending him sprawling on his back.

“Run!” Barry yelled to the other two.

He and Elizabeth both snatched up their bags, and the three of them broke out in a run, huffing and breathing in large gulps of air as they ran down the street as if their lives depended on it. Barry stopped running after a few blocks, though, when he noticed how far behind him the other two were. They caught up to him, but Felix was wheezing horribly.

“Give me your bag,” Barry said, taking the bag from him.

The other two had only been carrying one bag each, while Barry had been carrying two, but apparently running combined with carrying the heavy bag of baked goods had been too much for Felix in his old age. Now straining to carry three bags, Barry led them the rest of the way home, taking up a light jog now instead of a run so they could keep up with him. He may not be the Flash anymore, but he must have still been faster than he thought, even without his powers.

* * *

“Did you see anything?” Caitlin asked nervously.

All of them were huddled around the computer at STAR Labs, anxiously watching Cisco through the video chat they had pulled up on the screen. Cisco pulled off his vibing glasses with a sigh.

“Yeah, I saw him,” he told them, “He’s alive.”

They all let out a breath of relief.

“Is he okay?” Henry asked urgently then.

“He seems to be,” Cisco said, “He was digging through a dumpster for food.”

They all stared at Cisco for a moment.

“It’s that bad?” Wally asked in disbelief, “He hasn’t even been there for twenty-four hours, and he’s eating _garbage_?!”

“It looked like they were trying to stock up on food,” Cisco explained.

“They?” Iris asked.

Cisco nodded.

“He was with two other people. A woman and an old man.”

Caitlin sighed.

“Well, at least he’s not alone,” she said.

“Yes, but other people can also weigh you down,” Joe pointed out, “Knowing Barry, he’s probably taking care of them.”

“It seemed like he was the one calling the shots,” Cisco told them, nodding.

“Sounds like Barry,” Iris said, “He would be the one to step up in a situation like this.”

“Which is good, as long as stepping up doesn’t get him killed,” Henry said darkly.

“Guys, I can’t keep doing this,” Cisco said wearily.

They all looked back at the screen at him, giving him worried looks.

“What do you mean?” Iris asked, “You can keep vibing, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Cisco said painfully, “I just mean I can’t just keep standing by, not doing anything.”

“Cisco,” Caitlin said, “You’re doing plenty. You’re doing more than _we’re_ doing. We’re the ones who should feel useless. Or at least _I_ should.”

Cisco gave her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s my fault Barry was taken,” she said somberly, “I should have tried to remove the chip. I should have…”

“Caitlin,” Joe said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Nobody blames you, _including_ Barry. We all know you tried.”

“But I _didn’t_ try,” she said in anguish, “I didn’t even try to remove it. I thought it was too dangerous, but…what if I had succeeded? Barry would be free. He would have his powers back, and he wouldn’t be in the metahuman zone right now.”

“But he also could be dead,” Henry said sadly, “I’ve looked over all the diagrams, watched all the surgical videos. You made the right call, Caitlin. You made the same decision I would have made.”

“What’s done is done,” Wally said firmly, “Right now, we can’t dwell on what we could have done to stop this. We need to focus on stopping this _now_.”

“But how?” Iris asked in a small voice.

“By doing the only thing we _can_ do,” her father said, “By going after Price.”

* * *

When they got back to the house with their second trip of food, all three of them were winded and gasping for breath.

“Wow, you’re fast,” Elizabeth gasped once they were inside and depositing their bags on the floor of the living room.

“You have no idea,” Barry gasped, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Thank you so much for what you did back there,” she said, massaging her arm where the guy had grabbed it, “I knew you were smart. I didn’t know you could fight, too.”

“That was just a sucker punch,” Barry said modestly, “It was kind of cowardly more than anything else. I was afraid he was going to hurt you, so I just…I don’t know. I just acted.”

Barry looked away then, feeling a twinge of guilt in his stomach. He never would have done that before. The guy wasn’t some Flash villain. He was just another desperate metahuman, someone who was in the same situation they were in. Regardless of the man’s intentions, Barry felt guilty for hitting him.

He had done it on a whim without even thinking about it first. Some type of survival instinct had just kicked in, and he had done it out of instinct, out of fear. It was only the first real day in the metahuman zone, and this place was already starting to do things to him. It was changing him, and that scared Barry more than anything.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said, putting a hand on his arm, “You did what you had to do.”

Barry gave her a weak smile.

“I guess,” he said quietly.

Yes, he had done what he had to do, and he hadn’t hesitated to do it. Today, he had hit someone, which wasn’t that big of a deal really, but what about tomorrow? What else would this place, this situation, drive him to do? It wasn’t the act of hitting the man that bothered Barry. It was the lack of hesitation behind the action that scared him.

“We should make another trip,” Felix said then.

The others nodded, and they quickly dumped out the contents of their bags on the counter. Rolling up the now empty bags to take with them, they walked out the door again. When Barry led them to a corner market store that he knew about, though, they were shocked to find the area surrounded by people. Everyone was fighting to get into the small shop, hitting and shoving each other to get into the building.

The frenzy had started.


	13. One Chance

* * *

**One Chance**

* * *

“Come on,” Barry said to the others, “We should try someplace else, somewhere in a less populated area. It’s not worth risking the crowds.”

The other two nodded seriously, and they were about to leave when Barry suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Over the sounds of all the commotion, Barry could hear somebody crying out. From where he stood, Barry looked through the crowd and finally spotted the person. A young, teenage boy was on the ground, desperately trying to get up, but the mob of people clambering to get into the store was preventing that. People were stepping on him, running into him repeatedly as he tried to get up from the ground.

They were trampling him.

“You can’t help him,” Felix said, as if reading Barry’s mind.

“He’s going to get trampled to death! I can’t just do _nothing_ ,” Barry said incredulously as they watched the boy struggle from a distance.

Barry moved then. He moved towards the crowd of frantic people, ignoring Elizabeth’s and Felix’s calls from behind him. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, viscously elbowing people out of his way to get to the teenage boy. When he finally reached him, Barry struggled just to stay standing from all the people who were trying to shove their way past him.

Barry reached down and grabbed the boy’s arm, straining to pull him to his feet. Once he got the boy standing, he slung the kid’s arm around his shoulder and wrapped an arm around the boy’s middle to secure him to his side before leading him out of the crowd. For a moment, Barry feared the crowd would be too much for him. There were people surrounding him, and he was fighting to go in the opposite direction of the crowd rushing past them. After a few minutes of pushing and shoving his way through the herd of people, though, Barry managed to break free from the crowd, the boy still clutched to his side.

Elizabeth and Felix were quick to rush over then and help him lead the teenager a safe distance away from the rest of the people stampeding into the small shop, breaking the windows and clawing at each other, trying to rip the food out of each other’s hands.

They eased the kid down on the sidewalk, where he sat upright but groaned in pain. Barry started looking him over for injuries. The kid was scraped up and bruised, but his injuries weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been.

“Thanks,” the teenager gasped, looking gratefully at Barry, “You just saved my life. I thought I was going to die.”

“I just did what anyone would do,” Barry said quietly, focusing on looking over the kid’s back.

The others all looked at each other. Barry was wrong. Not everyone would do that, not in this situation. Even Felix and Elizabeth had tried to stop him from running into the crowd. They had been against helping the kid. Everyone would all like to think they’d be the one to act in that type of situation, that they’d be willing to risk our own lives to save someone else’s, but when the time came to act, most people froze up. When actually faced with that kind of situation, most people failed to do the right thing. As ugly as it was, it was just human nature. It was the instinct to look out for oneself. To survive.

Elizabeth stared at Barry in awe. She had never met someone like him before. The guy was a damn hero, and it had nothing to do with working in law enforcement. It was just Barry. She had already known from the little bit of time she had known him that Barry was a good person, but now she knew. Barry was good all the way to his core.

Barry was selfless.

“No broken bones,” Barry said after a while, “As far as I can tell. I’m no doctor, though.”

“I’ll be fine,” the kid grimaced, “The rest of my group should find me here.”

“Where are they?” Felix asked him.

The teenager pointed vaguely towards the mob of people.

“Somewhere in there,” he said, “Trying to get food.”

The others nodded sadly.

“Barry,” Felix said then, “We should really get going.”

Barry looked torn as he looked back and forth between the injured kid and the other two, standing there waiting for him.

“Go,” the kid said, “I’ll be fine. My group will join me soon.”

Barry let out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure?” he asked seriously.

“Yeah,” he assured him, “You should go.”

Barry nodded sadly, and then put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Be smart,” he told him, “You and your group shouldn’t try to risk the crowds. Go where there’s less people.”

The teenager nodded.

“Okay,” he said.

Barry got up and turned to leave.

“Barry,” the kid said, causing him to turn, surprised at the kid using his name.

He must have heard Felix say it.

“Thank you.”

Barry nodded and then turned to leave with the others, a sinking feeling in his stomach. It didn’t feel quite right, leaving the kid alone, injured, on the sidewalk, but Barry felt a hell of a lot better than he would have if they had left him on the ground to be brutally trampled to death by the frenzy. He had probably just saved the kid’s life, and Barry felt grateful for that, but there were so many more people that he couldn’t save. He couldn’t save them all. He couldn’t keep them all from going hungry or from killing each other for food to quash their hunger. He couldn’t save them all, and that idea was going to eat at him the entire time he was here.

As they walked, Barry couldn’t help but notice that Elizabeth kept staring at him, turning her head every now and then to look at him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“What?” he finally asked her as they turned onto another street.

She just shook her head.

“Nothing,” she said quietly, “You’re just…a strange person. I’ve never met anyone like you, Barry Allen.”

Barry frowned not knowing what she meant by that.

“What you did back there…saving that kid…You’re amazing,” she concluded simply before looking forward again and continuing to walk without another word.

Barry cleared his throat awkwardly and then changed the subject.

“How’s the signal now?” he asked her seriously.

Elizabeth pulled out her phone and handed it to him so he could do a field test to check the signal. Barry sighed and handed it back to her.

“Still not strong enough to make a call,” he said sadly, a hint of frustration in his voice, “Maybe when we reach a higher point in the city. We’ll just have to keep checking.”

They made their way through the streets of the meta zone, avoiding the more populated parts. Every place they went to that could potentially have food, though, was swarmed with people fighting each other. The violence was escalating with each place they stopped at. By the time they reached the sixth stop, a small diner near the edge of the zone, they started to see deaths. People were literally killing each other for food. It happened sooner than Barry thought it would. Then again, his faith in people had always been stronger than what was necessarily realistic.

“We’re not going to find more food,” Barry said after a while as they skirted past yet another bloody brutal scene of people fighting for food scraps, “We should focus on something else.”

“Like what?” Elizabeth asked.

“Like other supplies,” Barry said, “We’re one step ahead of everyone, and we need to stay that way. While they raid all the restaurants, bars, groceries stories, and everything in between, we should be searching for supplies. We should look in hardware stores, dumpsters, really any other type of business. Who knows what we’re going to find?”

With the other two in agreement, the three of them made their way to a nearby hardware store. Unlike other businesses, the owner of this store bothered to actually lock it, a problem that was solved rather quickly when Barry chucked a rock through the front window. After carefully stepping over all the shards of glass, they started to search the business. As expected, the owner had taken most of the merchandise with them when they left, but there was still plenty to search through, though.

They started checking the back rooms, all the drawers in the back office and behind the cashier’s counter. Barry found a few things that might be useful.

“There’s not much here,” Felix said, disappointed.

“Yes!” Barry said excitedly as he showed them what he had found.

It was an old radio.

“It’s probably broken,” Felix pointed out.

Barry shook his head.

“If it is, we can fix it,” he said surely, clutching the radio as if it were the holy grail.

If they could have a working radio, that would be huge when it came to staying up to date with everything going on in the outside world. Barry was extremely optimistic about it, even if the other two were eyeing the radio with doubt.

They continued searching the hardware store, digging through all the drawers there, which were mostly filled with old papers and junk.

“Glad I won’t be needing _these_ ,” Felix said, holding up a half pack of cigarettes he had found in one drawer, “I quit back in ’84.”

“Keep those,” Barry said seriously.

“Why? You smoke?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, but I guarantee a lot of people in the zone do, and they’ll be dying for a cigarette. If we need to trade for anything later, cigarettes could be a valuable thing to have.”

He turned to Felix then.

“Was there a lighter in that drawer, too?”

Felix shook his head as he pocketed the cigarettes.

Barry sighed. A lighter would be priceless to have. Any way in which they could build a fire would be useful.

“Oh, that’s just cruel,” Elizabeth groaned when she laid eyes on the empty coffee maker in the corner of the break room, “A coffee maker, but no coffee.”

Barry let out a small laugh, but there wasn’t much humor in it. He wanted coffee probably more than the other two combined. He had grown so used to siphoning energy from his powers to get him through the day. After they had been taken from him, he had developed quite the caffeine addiction in the couple months leading up to his being transported here. He was dying for a cup of coffee right now.

They checked the bathrooms then, although they were mostly empty. Barry busted open the soap dispensers and pulled out the bags of liquid soap to take with them. It wasn’t just for comfort or hygiene. If any of them got injured, even simple hand soap for wound cleansing could be the difference between them healing fully or getting an infection. He didn’t explain any of his reasoning to Felix or Elizabeth, though, and they didn’t ask. They were starting to ask him less and less questions and were more just following him blindly, trusting him wholeheartedly.

After grabbing the second bag of soap out of the ladies’ room, Barry was just about to exit the bathroom when something on the wall caught his eye. He sighed heavily.

“Here. Hold this,” he said, handing Elizabeth the bag of soap.

She gave him a curious look, but she didn’t ask as she watched Barry walk back over to the other side of the bathroom. She and Felix both jumped when Barry started banging his fists against a small metal box mounted to the wall. He tampered with the knob on it and struck it a few times before the contents of the metal dispenser fell out onto the floor.

“Oh,” Elizabeth said in understanding as she looked at the dozen or so tampons that now littered the bathroom floor.

Barry quickly picked them up, and walked back over to her, an awkward look on his face.

“For you,” he said, blushing crimson, “And Kathy.”

Elizabeth laughed, taking them from him and throwing them in the garbage bag she was carrying.

“How thoughtful of you,” she giggled and then quickly went on her tip toes to peck him gratefully on the cheek.

Barry’s blush deepened, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before exiting the bathroom.

They made their way through the streets, searching several businesses and digging through multiple dumpsters for supplies. They managed to find some old lawn chair cushions in one of the dumpsters that would be great for someone to sleep on, and they found some rather nasty, tattered blankets at a local animal shelter, but Barry insisted they could wash them and that they would be grateful to have them later on when winter came. He hoped to God that they wouldn’t be there that long, but it was only smart to prepare for the worst just in case.

Some stuff that Barry grabbed didn’t make a whole lot of sense to them. A rusty nail that he found in a piece of plywood. A tangled mess of old, seemingly useless wires and cables. Old, half-burnt candles. Gardening peppersalt. Old paper cups. The list went on and on. Barry insisted the things he took had many uses, so the other two didn’t question it.

As they were on their way back to the house, Barry cased their surroundings the entire time, remembering everything Oliver had taught him about paying attention to what was around you. Granted, Oliver had been talking about looking for potential threats in a Flash situation, but Barry found the habit useful in this scenario as well.

He took note of the more elevated parts of the zone, which seemed to be more towards the south. Unfortunately, their house was in the northern part of the zone, and water runoff may become a problem for them later on. He also took note of it when they passed a small park, a park with a very small lake. Not only was that a potential water source if they ended up running out of water later, but there was a good chance there’d be fish in that water. If it came down to it, the lake could prove to be an excellent food source if Barry could devise a way to fish from it.

He paid attention to which areas of the city seemed to be more populated and which seemed to have the most MRA officers surveying them. There were certain parts of the zone they were going to have to be sure to avoid in order to stay safe. It was for that reason, they ended up taking a long route to get back, skirting around the “danger zones,” as Barry called them, and circling around through the south side to loop around the zone.

“Hang on,” Barry said suddenly as they were walking.

He looked up at the building they were walking past. It had to be easily the tallest building in the zone, and it was on the south side, which was on higher ground.

“We need to go up there,” he said, looking up towards the roof, “It’s our best chance of getting a signal on Elizabeth’s phone.”

“Shouldn’t we focus on getting the supplies back to the house?” Elizabeth asked nervously.

She desperately wanted to contact her family, too, but getting their supplies safely back was the more important task.

Barry sighed.

“Turning your phone off won’t preserve the battery for long,” he told her, “The last time I did a field test, your phone had only thirteen percent battery left. This could be our only chance to do this before the phone dies for good.”

That was all the convincing she needed. Elizabeth nodded silently, and the three of them entered the building, finding the stairs in a hurry. They made their way to the roof as fast as they could, growing winded from climbing so many stairs. The power was still on, and they could have taken the elevator, but why risk it? It would be a pretty dumb way to go, getting stranded and slowly starving to death in an elevator in the middle of the metahuman slums.

When they made it to the roof, Barry was quick to do another field test on Elizabeth’s phone. He grinned when the number was displayed on the screen.

“We have -94 DbM’s!” he said happily, “We might be able to make a call!”

Felix grinned, and Elizabeth squealed in delight, jumping up and down. Barry held the phone out to her.

“You first,” he said seriously, “It’s your phone.”

She took the phone from him excitedly and quickly dialed a number.

“Try to make it quick,” Felix said anxiously.

Barry had wanted to say the same thing. There was only eight percent battery remaining on the phone, and if they all wanted to make a call, they would have to make their calls brief.

They watched her in excited anticipation as she pressed the phone to her ear.

“It’s ringing,” she said tensely to them.

They waited on pins and needles as they watched her make the call. Elizabeth suddenly grinned and nodded at them, indicating that someone had picked up.

“Mom,” she choked into the phone, “It’s me.”

She turned her back on them and took a few paces away from them as she talked hurriedly into the phone. Felix and Barry gave her her space, letting her talk to her loved ones privately. Felix paced back and forth next to Barry as they waited, clearly anxious for her to hang up so he could make his own call.

Barry looked and saw that Felix had a wedding ring on his hand. He had no doubt that Felix was waiting to call his wife, judging by the way he twisted it nervously around his finger.

Elizabeth was actually pretty good about ending her call in a decent amount of time. When she walked back to them with her phone in her hand, she had tears in her eyes, which she quickly brushed away as she held the phone out to them. Barry pointed at Felix, indicating that he should go next. He could tell the man was about to break down from the anticipation of getting to finally call his wife. Felix smiled gratefully at Barry as he took the phone from Elizabeth.

Barry was shaking with anticipation as he waited for Felix to finish his call. He thought about whom to call. Joe? Iris? STAR Labs? He had no doubt that all of them would answer, but Joe was probably his best bet. Barry suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach at a sudden thought.

No. He wouldn’t be calling Joe. He wouldn’t be calling any of them.

Felix took a bit longer than Elizabeth did on the phone, and Barry had to fight back the urge to rip the phone away from him so he could make his own call. Instead, he waited patiently for his turn.

When Felix finally ended his call and held the phone out to Barry, Barry quickly snatched it out of his hand. Looking at the screen, he saw that there was only two percent battery remaining. Barry wanted nothing more than to quickly dial Joe’s number and talk to his family, but he didn’t. Instead, he called a different number.

He had asked Lucy that morning if she knew her home phone number, and she had nodded excitedly, reciting it with enthusiasm. It was this number that Barry punched into the phone now, holding the phone anxiously up to his ear as he listened to it ring, waiting nervously for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered.

“Um, hi,” Barry said awkwardly.

He didn’t have time to beat around the bush, though. He had to do this quickly.

“My name is Barry Allen,” he said quickly before the woman could reply to his awkward greeting, “I’m a metahuman inside the segregation zone right now.”

The woman gasped.

“You’re…”

“I’m with your daughter,” he told her quickly, “Well, not right now. Where I am isn’t very safe, and I have her in a safe place with someone else watching her right now. I know you probably must really want to talk to her, but that wasn’t really an option under these circumstances. This was the only place we could get signal.”

“Oh, my God,” the woman said tearfully, “We’ve been worried sick! Lucy, is she—?”

“She’s okay,” he assured her hurriedly, “She’s safe right now, and I’m looking after her. I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”

“Thank God!” the woman cried, “Thank you! Thank you so much! Bless you!”

“Listen,” Barry said urgently, knowing his time was limited, “I’m going to take good care of your daughter. I promise. But right now I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” she sobbed.

“The phone that I’m using is about to die,” Barry explained, speaking quickly, “There’s a good chance I won’t be able to call my family after this. In case that happens, could you please contact Joseph West for me? Tell him that I’m alive and I’m okay?”

“Of course,” she said, “We’ll find him and tell him.”

“And…” Barry said, his voice catching in his throat, “Tell him I love him. I love all of them. And please tell them not to do anything reckless to help me. Tell them to be smart and stay safe.”

“We’ll tell him,” she assured him firmly.

“And don’t worry. Lucy is going to be—”

The phone went dead then. Barry sighed as he pulled the phone away from his ear. He had lost his chance, his one chance to talk to his family. He had given it up. He had given it up for Lucy. He didn’t regret his decision, and he would do again in a heartbeat, but it still saddened him.

Looking mournfully at the ground, Barry silently handed the now dead phone back to Elizabeth. He slowly looked up at her then and found that she was staring up at him in awe. She seemed lost for words for a moment, opening and closing her mouth a few times before speaking softly.

“You’re a good man, Barry.”

Barry didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned and led them toward the door that would take them off the roof and back to the stairwell. He didn’t let them see his face. He didn’t want them to see the tears in his eyes.

* * *

The frenzy to obtain food and supplies was still in full swing. As they walked down the street, they came across many injured people and even bodies, some of them looking like they had been trampled to death the same way the kid Barry had saved had nearly been. They were glad they had decided not to risk the crowds. No small amount of food was worth dying that horrible death.

When they made it back to the house for the third time that day, they were all relieved to see that Adam had returned and was waiting for them there with Kathy and Lucy. The box of food he had gotten from the MRA was pitifully small. He wasn’t bitter about having been wrong, though. He had swallowed his pride and was ecstatic to find that Barry had been right about there being more food in other places.

The group took a few minutes to take a short break and eat a little bit of food then. They had had a long, yet very productive morning, but they had been going all day without stopping, and they were exhausted and very hungry. They needed to take a short breather before returning to their hunt for supplies.

While everyone was resting, Barry was surprised when Adam pulled him aside.

“Barry, I need to talk to you,” he said seriously.

Barry nodded silently and gestured to the door, indicating for them to step outside to talk, sensing that whatever Adam wanted to talk about, he didn’t want the others to hear it.

“The food dispersal today,” he said once the door was closed behind them, “I was so lucky. I got served right before they ran out of food.”

He looked at Barry with a deadly serious expression on his face, speaking in a lowered voice, even though they were outside and the others couldn’t hear them.

“Barry, they only had enough food for maybe half of us.”

Barry paled, and Adam went on.

“And these food packages are tiny,” he said, “Not nearly enough for six people.”

“At least half of the people in the zone are going to starve,” Barry concluded in a whisper.

Adam nodded, and Barry sighed.

“But we’re not going to be in that half,” Barry said determinedly, “We have more food than most right now, and we’re sitting pretty good.”

“Sitting good?!” Adam said incredulously, “Dude, look at our situation! We have a child, an old man, and two women to look after. We’re screwed.”

Barry sighed.

“We may not have the strongest group,” he admitted, “But that only means we have to make up for it by being the smartest.”

* * *


	14. In This Together

* * *

**In This Together**

* * *

“I want to know everything about him. Where he lives. Where he came from. Who his family is. Is Price even his real name? I want everything you have on this man.”

“Joe, calm down,” Singh said gently over the phone, “I’m running all the background checks I can, but I also have to be careful. If the MRA catches wind that the CCPD is investigating Price…”

“I know,” Joe said, taking a deep breath, “I know, but David…You don’t know what this is like. You don’t know what it’s like to have your child taken from you, to not know what’s happening to him.”

“I’m worried about Barry, too, Joe,” Singh told him, “Two of my men have been taken. I’m taking Barry’s and Officer Liddell’s situations very seriously. I’m doing everything in my power to stop this. In the meantime, you and your team at STAR Labs should keep working on trying to find out more about Price. The CCPD can only do so much.”

“We can’t find anything,” Joe said in frustration, “It’s like Price just came out of nowhere, like he didn’t exist up until a few months ago.”

“We’ll keep searching,” Singh assured him, “Although, I’m not sure what you think we’re going to find.”

“I have no _clue_ what we’re going to find,” Joe said seriously, “That’s why I’m so worried.”

“I’m doing everything I can to help Barry,” Singh told him, “But right now the CCPD has its hands full with the rising crime rates without the Flash and with trying to control all the protestors. I have a feeling if we can’t get them to quiet down soon, the MRA is going to start taking drastic measures to do it themselves.”

“Just do what you need to do,” Joe said firmly, “And let me know if you find anything, no matter how small.”

“I will,” Singh assured him.

“Thank you, David,” Joe said before hanging up the phone.

“Singh still has nothing?” Iris asked once he was off the phone.

Joe nodded sadly.

“He’s overwhelmed right now,” he said, “The city is falling apart with the mayoral election coming up in a few days. If Price wins…if he becomes mayor…”

“Things will get worse,” Wally concluded quietly.

Their morbid thoughts were suddenly interrupted, though, when their doorbell rang. The three of them all looked nervously at each other. They were suspicious of everything now. Joe had barely even allowed Iris or Wally to leave the house, and they were all leery of anyone who came to their front door ever since it had been the MRA at their door two nights ago, there to take Barry away.

Joe looked through the window of the door first to be sure. A man and a woman whom Joe had never met before stood outside. Curiously, and very cautiously, Joe opened the door.

“Are you Joseph West?” the woman asked immediately, “Barry Allen’s family?”

* * *

Barry was exhausted when it was time to wake up that second morning. He had stayed up nearly all night, boarding up all their windows, cataloguing the supplies they had gotten, and tampering with the broken radio he had found. He had only stopped after Kathy woke up in the middle of the night to find him still working and told him to get some sleep.

They had spent the entire first day trying to find as many supplies as they could. They worked hard and fast, right up until sundown when the nightly curfew started, and they intended to do the same exact thing the next day and every day after that until there were no more supplies left to find.

However, their first priority in the morning was getting the daily food dispersal. Barry and Adam both went to the dispersal on the second morning, telling everyone else to stay home. They figured that after yesterday, people were going to have figured out what they had, that the food was limited, that half of them were going to starve. It would be safer if the two of them went together. When they reached the food dispersal at quarter to six, they weren’t surprised to find it packed with people, all waiting anxiously in line.

“The line was a lot more orderly yesterday,” Adam told him as they joined the large group of people waiting for food.

It was amazing how many different types of people were there. Young, old; men, women; and sadly, children. All of them were waiting in line for food.

People were occasionally pushing each other and arguing about line order. Anyone who had gotten their food box already walked away as fast as their legs could carry them, no doubt worried that someone was going to try to steal their food away from them.

“This is ridiculous!” a middle-aged man shouted at one of the MRA officers, “You can’t expect us survive off of these portions! These boxes alone can only feed—”

BANG

Everyone in line jumped a mile as the man fell to the ground, a bullet through his left eye.

“Anyone else want to complain?” the officer asked, holding up his gun.

Nobody spoke. In their line, they all stood there in silence, afraid to even look at the officer. A lot of the fighting and pushing stopped after that. It had reminded them all of who the real enemy was, the real threat.

They all watched as the body of the man who had been killed was thrown unceremoniously in the back of a truck. What was most disturbing, however, was the fact that he wasn’t the only body there. The back of the truck was filled with mangled bodies, no doubt the trampled and beaten victims of all the food mobs from yesterday. The truck was driving around the city, stopping to pick up the deceased that lay in the streets. Where they were going with the bodies, nobody knew.

The food dispersal started at seven each morning, but almost everyone left their units as soon as the curfew ended at five. It had taken nearly a half hour just for Barry and Adam to get to the dispersal, and then it took an hour and a half of waiting in an unmoving line before the MRA even started to hand out food at seven.

The two of them stood in line for nearly four hours. Around nine thirty, they finally reached the front of the line.

“Wrist,” the MRA officer there said impatiently.

Barry hesitantly held out his wrist, and the man grabbed it roughly and then scanned his barcode.

“Unit 1477,” he said, and another man with a computer typed it in.

“They’re good,” he said.

The officer nodded, and a small box of food was suddenly pressed into Barry’s hands.

Relieved, Barry and Adam quickly walked off with their box. They didn’t want to be around when the MRA ran out of food for the day.

“What was that about?” Barry asked him once they were a safe distance away and could breathe a little easier.

“Only one box per unit,” Adam said with a shrug, “They scan you to make sure you don’t have different members of your unit getting in line twice.”

“Right,” Barry said, understanding, “I was wondering about that.”

They got the food back to the house quickly, and after a rather pitiful breakfast—they were rationing their food—they all went out as a group to search for more supplies, Felix remaining behind with Lucy this time instead of Kathy. They had a lot of work ahead of them, and they had until nine pm to do it.

* * *

Joe, Iris, and Wally all stared curiously at the young couple as they all sat down in the living room.

“How do you know Barry?” Joe asked them seriously once they were all sitting.

He had never seen them before, and he was almost certain Barry didn’t know them either.

“My name is Thomas Evans,” the man said, “This is my wife, Jane. Your son, Barry, he…”

“He contacted us yesterday,” Jane said quietly.

The others stared at them in shock before exchanging looks with each other.

“What do you mean, he contacted you?” Wally asked them.

“We got a phone call from him yesterday afternoon,” Thomas explained.

“He asked us to find you,” Jane continued, “He wanted us to find his family for him.”

“Why didn’t he just call _us_?” Joe asked incredulously, “Why did he call _you_?”

Jane wiped a tear from her eye and sniffed.

“Because he’s with our daughter,” she told them, her voice cracking, “He’s with her inside the wall. He said he was looking out for her.”

The others all raised their eyebrows.

“Your daughter is in the metahuman zone?” Joe asked.

They both nodded tearfully.

“She’s only five years old,” Thomas said painfully, “I fought like hell to stop them from taking her, but…”

The others all nodded sympathetically, knowing exactly how they felt.

“So Barry’s looking out for her now?” Iris asked sadly.

The mother nodded, wiping her eyes again.

“He said that he had finally managed to get a phone signal, but his battery was limited, and he didn’t think he’d be able to call you before the phone died. He…he called us first, to tell us our little girl was alright.”

Iris put her hand on her mouth, tears forming in her eyes.

“Of course that’s what Barry would do,” Joe said sadly, thinking about how hard that must have been for him.

He was dying to talk to Barry, to hear his voice, and he knew Barry must have wanted to speak with them even more. It must have killed him to not call them when he had the chance, to give up his one phone call for someone else.

“What did Barry say?” Iris asked tearfully, “What did he say to you when you talked to him?”

“He just told us not to worry,” Jane said, “That he was going to look out for our Lucy and protect her. He wanted us to find Joe West and the rest of his family. He wanted us to tell you that he was alive and okay, that he loved you, all of you, and that he didn’t want you to do anything dangerous to help him.”

They all nodded sadly. They couldn’t say they were reassured, though. At least Barry was alive—which they already knew from Cisco, although the reassurance was nice—but they didn’t know how “okay” he could possibly be, considering everything that was happening.

“What is it that he thinks you’re going to do?” Thomas asked them seriously after a moment, “What could the three of you possibly do to help him that he’d be so worried about?”

The three of them all looked at each other, not sure what to tell them.

“We’re looking for a way to stop Price,” Joe finally said after a moment’s pause, “We want to take him down, shut down the whole operation.”

The couple’s eyes widened.

“You really think cutting off the head of the snake is going to solve this, though?” the dad asked skeptically, “Who’s to say someone else won’t just take his place? This whole thing is bigger than just one man now.”

“I know,” Joe said, “But it’s the best idea we’ve got. There’s no way to take the MRA down by force. They simply have too many people and resources at their disposal. They have to be taken down politically. If we can just find something on Price, something to use against him…”

“Or we just kill the bastard,” Wally said.

They all gave him shocked looks.

“Oh, come on,” Wally said in exasperation, “We’re all thinking it. Besides, how many deaths is this guy responsible for now? You can’t say he wouldn’t have deserved it.”

“Well, we need to focus on _finding_ Price first,” Joe said wearily, “Then we’ll decide on our next course of action.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Jane said, “You’re actually serious about going after Price?”

The three of them nodded.

“We’re not alone, though,” Iris said, “We have others helping us. We’re all looking for a way to set things right.”

“You’re starting a resistance?” Thomas asked intensely, leaning forward in his seat, clearly interested.

The three of them all looked at each other.

“I guess you could call it that,” Joe said slowly, “Our group is small, though. It’s not some big operation or anything.”

“We want to join,” Jane said firmly.

The rest of them all looked at the couple with wide eyes.

“Join?” Iris asked quietly.

Thomas nodded and took his wife’s hand.

“We’ve been looking for a way to get involved,” he told them, “But so far, the only form of resistance we’ve seen has been the protestors, and although their motives are good, their efforts are somewhat futile. We’ve been looking for people just like you, one’s who are doing more to stop this than by just standing outside the MRA building brandishing picket signs. If you guys are serious about actually taking action, we want to help.”

Joe, Wally, and Iris all looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Joe said, “We weren’t really looking to start a big resistance or movement or anything. I think we were trying to do this more on the down low.”

“Please,” Jane said desperately, “Please, we both have people we care about on the inside. We just want to help in any way we can. Please don’t deny us that chance.”

Joe sighed and looked at the other two, both of whom looked as unsure about it as he did.

“We’ll have to talk to the rest of our team,” Joe said, “We wanted to keep this a secret, and I’m not sure how everyone is going to feel about letting others help, but we’ll talk to them.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said gratefully, “Thank you! I can’t just stand by and do nothing while my little girl is in the MRA’s hands. Thank you for considering letting us help.”

Joe nodded, and the couple then stood to leave.

“Here,” Thomas said, handing him a piece of paper, “Our contact info.”

Joe took it and nodded.

“And take this,” Jane said, handing him something else.

Joe looked down and saw that she had handed him a photo of a young girl. She had a wide smile, rosy cheeks, and curly blonde hair.

“That’s our Lucy,” she said, tears in her eyes.

Iris took the photo from her father and looked at it, a small, sad smile forming on her face.

“She’s beautiful,” she said quietly.

The couple smiled sadly at them and then turned towards the front door to leave.

“Wait,” Iris said suddenly when they reached the door.

She quick went over to the fireplace and grabbed a photo frame off the mantel, quickly opening the back and taking out the picture that was inside.

“Barry,” she said, handing them the photo.

Jane took the photo and smiled at it.

“Thank you,” she said, clutching the photo to her chest, “We don’t know Barry and we’ve never met him, but I can’t tell you how thankful we are to him for looking out for our little girl. He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Joe agreed, holding back tears, “Don’t worry. Barry and Lucy are going to make it through this. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said quietly, and the two families smiled sadly at each other, both knowing they were going through the same thing.

“We’ll be in touch,” Joe assured them, and the couple nodded before walking out the door.

* * *

Barry didn’t think he’d ever been more tired in his life. Two full days of scavenging the city for food, supplies, and firewood left him completely drained and his whole body sore. It didn’t help that he was going off so little food. They had decided to drink the Ensure supplement drinks first so they wouldn’t go bad, and they were very nutritious, but they didn’t leave him feeling full for long, not like solid food would.

Barry was feeling weak and shaky by the end of the second day, but he didn’t let that stop him. Even after the curfew had ended, Barry still worked hard to ensure their safety and survival.

“What are you doing?” Adam demanded when he walked down the basement steps to find Barry in the food cellar.

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can seal this room,” Barry said, staring at the door thoughtfully, “It would probably be smart to turn it into a makeshift safe room. This is an old house. These old fruit cellars are surrounded by six inches of solid concrete. If we can just secure the door, it’d practically be a bunker.”

He smiled at Adam, but Adam frowned and crossed his arms.

“I thought the rule was that no one goes in the food cellar alone,” he accused.

The smile slid from Barry’s face.

“Oh,” he said awkwardly, “I didn’t think…I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t take any food or anything. I…”

Barry looked apologetically at Adam, not sure what else to say.

“Oh, shut up, Adam,” Elizabeth said, coming down the stairs and overhearing their exchange, “Barry’s the only reason we have all this food to begin with. And I trust him wholeheartedly. He’s not about to go and steal any of it for himself.”

“Maybe not for himself,” Adam said, arms still crossed, “But I’ve seen how he is with that kid. He’s not about to let her go hungry. Plus, he’s bound to be hungry himself. He gave Lucy half of his portions this morning.”

Elizabeth gave Barry a shocked look. She hadn’t noticed him do that.

“So what?” Barry said defensively, glaring at Adam, “They’re my portions. I can do what I want with them.”

Adam raised his hands.

“You want to give away your food, go for it,” he said, “I won’t stop you. I just don’t want to see you sniffing around the cellar when you start to starve.”

“Alright, calm down, calm down,” Elizabeth said loudly, stepping between the two men, “Nobody’s _starving_ , so let’s not start arguing over food just yet.”

She turned to Adam then.

“We have to be able to trust each other,” she said firmly, “We’re a team now, a _family_ even if you really think about it, and—”

“You people are _not_ my family,” Adam said angrily, “I barely even know you. I don’t even know what your meta abilities were before. For all I know, you both were a couple of power-crazed lunatics before the MRA took you.”

“Wow,” Elizabeth said angrily, “Way to side with the MRA, Adam. In case you forgot, you’re a metahuman, too. Just take a look at your wrist!”

“I’m a type two metahuman,” he said defensively, “There’s nothing wrong with me. I never had any powers, and my life was _normal_ before all this happened. It’s the fucking type ones that were the problem, and because of their actions, I’m being dragged down along with them.”

With that, Adam stormed up the stairs, leaving the two of them in shocked silence.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Elizabeth seethed, looking like she was about to hit something, “I can’t stand that kid. Why’d we have to get stuck with such an asshole?!”

Barry smiled at her in amusement.

“What?” she asked him, her expression still serious.

“Nothing,” Barry said, shaking his head, a small laugh escaping his lips, “This is just the first time I’ve ever really seen you angry. You’re normally so peppy. It’s kind of funny.”

“Hey,” she said defensively, giving his shoulder a small shove, “I’m not funny. I’m terrifying.”

Barry laughed.

“Oh, yeah,” he teased, “So terrifying. Five feet of pure intimidation.”

“I’m five-four, thank you very much,” she said, “And sorry we can’t all be six foot-whatever you are.”

“Six-two,” he smirked, and she smacked his arm in retaliation.

She sighed then, her expression becoming serious again.

“I don’t know how we’re going live with that guy,” she said quietly.

“He’ll come around,” Barry said surely, “He’s still just processing everything we’re going through, and he’s still upset about the whole phone thing.”

Adam’s phone had died before he ever got the chance to use it. He had separated from them yesterday so he could go to the dispersal, and he had therefore missed his opportunity to call his family when they had managed to get signal. Now, both phones were dead, and no more phone calls could be made.

“Well, he doesn’t have to take it out on us,” she sighed, “And he should blame the MRA for this, not type one metahumans.”

She gave him a nervous look, as if she wanted to ask him something but didn’t know how.

“I’m a type one,” Barry said quietly, already knowing what she was going to ask.

To his surprise, Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief.

“So am I,” she said, smiling, “What’s your power?”

She bit her lip then.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Is that a rude question to ask someone here? I don’t even know.”

Barry just laughed lightly.

“It’s fine,” he said, “My power is healing.”

He found himself actually wanting to tell her his true power, but he didn’t. He felt like he could trust her even though he had just met her, but Barry didn’t see that as a good enough reason to tell her. The information was irrelevant now anyways, and the less people that knew, the better.

“That’s so cool!” she said excitedly, “Can you heal yourself? Or other people? Or…?”

“Just myself,” he told her, “Regenerative healing factor. It doesn’t do me much good now, though.”

He pointed to his face, which was still sporting a split lip from when the MRA officer had hit him with the end of his gun. Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic look.

“What was _your_ power?” he asked her then, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

She shook her head and smiled at him.

“You’re going to think my power is so lame,” she said, laughing lightly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“Have you ever read Twilight?” she asked with a small laugh.

Barry just laughed, confused where this is going.

“No,” he told her, “But my friend, Iris, made me watch the movie once when it first came out. I only saw the first one, though.”

“Okay,” she said, “So you know there’s that one guy in it who can control people’s moods?”

Barry frowned.

“Vaguely,” he said, not sure if he was even thinking of the right movie.

Iris had also made him binge watch Vampire Diaries with her a few years ago, and he often got the two confused.

“Well, that’s what I can do,” Elizabeth continued, “I can sense the moods of other people around me, and I can influence them, make them feel how I want them to feel, whether that’s sad or happy or angry, whatever I want.”

“Woah,” Barry said, trying to wrap his mind around that, “That’s awesome!”

“Well, I used to think so, too,” she said, “Until you just told me what _your_ power was. Yours makes mine seem so lame.”

Barry shook his head and laughed.

“No, your power is definitely cooler,” he said, “As long as it’s used the right way.”

His mind jumped to Bivolo then, thinking about how he could make people so angry that they could end up killing each other. He had to fight back the urge to shudder.

“I’ve only ever used it to make people happy,” Elizabeth assured him, “I would never use it for anything else. Although, I may have used it to win a couple arguments once or twice. It’s kind of easy to win in a fight when you can stop the other person from being mad at you.”

Barry laughed at that, and then sighed, looking at the cellar door.

“I should get back to work,” he said quietly, his light mood now quickly leaving him as he remembered what they were dealing with here.

Elizabeth seemed to have this incredible ability to make him forget sometimes. She was easy to talk to, and even without her powers, she seemed to still be able to lift his mood, at least for a little while.

“You should call it a night,” she told him gently, “You look dead on your feet, and you’ve been working on this all evening.”

Barry shook his head.

“There’s still so much to do yet,” he said seriously, “I have to fortify the cellar, and I still have that radio to fix, and we need to find a way to preserve this food before it all goes bad, and I’ve seen some signs of mice down here. I should really—”

“Barry,” she said firmly, cutting him off, “Get some rest. Your health and your sanity are just as important. All of this will mean nothing if you work yourself to death.”

Barry sighed and leaned his back against one of the wooden foundation posts of the basement.

“I just want us to be safe,” he said quietly, “I…I want to give us the best chance we can possibly get.”

“And that’s great,” she said, smiling sadly at him, “But I don’t think that’s all that’s going on here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“We’re in a helpless situation,” she said, “We don’t have a lot of control of what happens to us here, and I think that’s why you’re doing all of this. To gain a sense of control.”

Barry smiled sadly at her.

“You’re pretty perceptive, you know that?” he said.

She laughed lightly, and Barry sighed.

“I just…” he said quietly, “I just feel like I should have done more. Before all of this, I mean. I feel like I should have found a way to stop all of this from happening. That’s why I feel the need to do whatever I can now.”

“What could you have possibly done to stop this?” she asked, shaking her head at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

She didn’t know the half of it. She could never understand why he thought this was all on him. If he had just been a better hero, if he had been able to keep the people’s trust, to stop Price before he could take over, they wouldn’t be here right now, and that guilt was a burden that Barry would carry for the rest of his life. This may not be entirely his doing, but it had been his responsibility, and he had failed to stop it. He had fallen victim to the MRA just like the rest of them.

He had failed.

* * *


	15. Enter Arrow

* * *

**Enter Arrow**

* * *

Caitlin yawned from her place at the computer in the cortex. These late nights of researching Price were starting to catch up to her. She sighed as she looked at Joe and the others.

“We don’t even know these people,” she pointed out, “Are you sure we can trust them?”

“I think we can,” Iris said, “They only want to help.”

“Yes, but we don’t really know if there’s even anything they can bring to the table,” Joe pointed out, “Yes, they want to help, but _how_?”

“I say we let them help,” Henry said seriously, his expression hard, “Every parent deserves the chance to be there for their kid when they’re going through something like this, and I know what it’s like to be left out of the loop.”

Joe looked down guiltily.

“I vote yes,” Wally said quietly, “What could it hurt?”

Caitlin sighed.

“I suppose more people getting in on this might not be such a bad thing if this becomes a numbers game,” she said thoughtfully.

“Which is why the Arrow is on his way here,” Joe pointed out, “We don’t need some random couple here making things more complicated. This is already emotional enough without throwing a couple of worried parents in the mix. I feel bad for them, and I want to help them, but I don’t want to bring them into all of this when that might not be the best move.”

“They deserve to be a part of this, though,” Henry said firmly.

“And the same could be said about anyone who has a loved one inside the wall,” Joe countered, “What are you suggesting? That we should just let anyone and everyone in on it?”

“At this point there’s not much to get in on,” Caitlin said seriously, “Right now, all we’re doing is trying to find out more about Price. We don’t have any big master plan yet, and having more people here, putting our heads together, might be for the best.”

“What happened to keeping a low profile?” Joe said, “You’re right that if this becomes a numbers game, having more people would be good. But if it’s not, then more people could just compromise our mission.”

“What’s this about getting more people?” a voice asked from the doorway.

They all looked over to see Oliver and Felicity enter the room.

* * *

“’Lizabeth! Watch this!” Lucy called out with glee, running into the room, pulling Barry by the arm.

Barry laughed and tried not to wince, seeing as it was his bad arm she was pulling on. His elbow had been nearly fully healed when he was originally taken by the MRA, but four days of digging through dumpsters and lifting and hauling supplies back to their unit had left the arm rather sore and tender. He ignored it, though, and laughed as Lucy pulled him into the living room.

“Barry and I have a secret handshake!” she told the woman excitedly.

“You do?” Elizabeth said, smiling at her, “Let’s see it!”

“Ready?” Barry said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor by Lucy so they were level.

Lucy nodded excitedly and curled her fingers into a little fist. She brought her fist down on top of Barry’s own and then from the bottom up before hooking thumbs with him and wiggling their fingers. She giggled hysterically when Barry made goofy sound effects to go with it. They ended the handshake with a fist bump and clapping their hands together.

The others all laughed.

“That’s a nice handshake you got there!” Felix told her.

Lucy grinned.

“Barry’s going to teach me to play checkers!” she told him excitedly.

Barry chuckled.

“I found a game board today,” he told them, “No pieces in it, but I figured we could just make our own.”

“Can we play now?!” Lucy asked him impatiently.

“I think it’s actually time for bed now,” Kathy said, yawning.

“But I want to play!” Lucy whined.

“We’ll play tomorrow night, okay?” Barry said, stifling his own yawn, “I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep now,” Lucy whined, “I’m not tired. I’m hungry.”

Barry felt his heart drop into his stomach. He was doing everything in his power to keep Lucy well-fed, but the portions they were sharing were small. They had no choice but to strictly ration their food. A shopping cart’s worth of food might seem like a lot, but not in the prospect of how long they might end up staying there, especially with the small amounts of food they were being given by the MRA.

They hadn’t even managed to get a food crate on the third or the fourth morning of going to the food dispersal. They had the disadvantage of being on the opposite side of the zone from where the food was handed out, and they had been just short of the cut-off in line for food two of the four days they had spent there. Four hours of standing in line, for nothing.

“Here,” Barry said quietly to Lucy, pulling out a slice of bread from his pocket.

“It’s mine from earlier,” he said flatly to Adam who had raised his eyebrows at him.

“Barry,” Kathy said, shaking her head sadly at him.

Barry ignored her, though, and handed the bread to Lucy, who thanked him and took a large bite, chewing it happily.

“Barry,” Kathy whispered to him, “You can’t keep doing that.”

“It’s fine,” Barry said back quietly, ignoring the gnawing pain in his stomach as he watched Lucy eat, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

“You need more calories than she does, man,” Adam pointed out.

“And I’m not going to watch a child starve,” Barry snapped, his voice hard and his eyes flashing seriously at him, “Don’t you worry about it.”

Without another word, Barry stood up and walked over to the area of the living room he normally slept in, pulling off his sweatshirt and rolling it up in a ball for Lucy to use as a pillow. No one protested again after that and they all silently got ready for bed, too.

* * *

“Oliver,” Caitlin said in surprise, “It’s so late. We weren’t expecting you until the morning.”

“Well, this is kind of important, so I came as soon as I could,” he countered, “Dig is holding down the fort until I get back.”

“Thank you so much for coming,” Joe said, putting aside his less-than-fond feelings for the other man.

He was grateful for any help they could get for Barry, and even if Joe didn’t really like him much, he had to admit that having Oliver there was making him feel better already.

“Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow?” Henry whispered to Iris.

“Guess so,” she said, trying not to stare at the man.

He just became so much hotter.

“So, what’s this about getting more people?” Oliver asked again after they had all said their hellos.

Joe sighed.

“There’s a couple who wants to join us in our pursuit against Price,” he told him, “They have family inside the metazone, too.”

“Do you know them personally?” Oliver asked seriously.

“No,” Wally said, “But their daughter knows Barry, I guess. Barry contacted them to tell them their daughter was alright. She’s five years old, and Barry’s looking after her.”

Oliver’s expression softened slightly upon hearing this.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” he said slowly, “But I think we should let them help.”

“You do?” Felicity asked in surprise.

Joe stared at him. Of all people, he had expected Oliver to be on his side in this.

“I don’t know,” Oliver said, “I don’t have a problem with more people helping as long as none of them find out I’m the Arrow. I think they have the right to help.”

“Thank you,” Henry said gratefully, happy that the man agreed with him.

He was liking him already. Well, at least a little more than before. He had already sort of formed a negative opinion of the man when he had heard that he had shot his son with arrows.

“How is Barry?” Felicity asked them all worriedly, “Is he okay?”

“Aside from being in the metazone,” Joe said, “He’s okay, I guess, but I won’t feel better until he’s home, safe and sound, and this whole mess is over.”

“Has Cisco…?”

“He’s been keeping an eye on him,” Caitlin said, “He’s only gotten a few glimpses here and there. Once when Barry was looking for food, and another time when he was waiting in some long line, probably also for food. He said that another man got shot right in front of Barry. Things are…tense in the metazone. It’s definitely not the nice, happy metahuman community that the MRA is making it out to be.”

“Does Barry still need to eat more than most people?” Oliver asked seriously.

“No,” Caitlin said, “Thank God. He’s been eating a normal amount of calories since he got that chip put in. I wish I had urged him to eat more, though. The more weight he could have gained before being taken, the better.”

“I’m so sorry about the microchip,” Felicity said sincerely, “I’ve been trying nonstop to find a way to disable it, but the computer system they’re using is somehow impossible to crack. They’re offline. Well, not _offline_ , but they don’t use the regular internet to regulate their signal. They must have their own satellite, one that isn’t registered or traceable. It makes their programs nearly impossible to hack.”

“We understand,” Iris said softly, “Just please keep trying.”

“I will,” Felicity assured her.

“Alright,” Oliver said, all business, “This Clinton Price guy. Tell me everything you know.”

* * *

Barry woke to the sound of the front door closing. He lifted his head slightly but couldn’t really sit up much considering how Lucy was laying with her cheek rested against his chest. Elizabeth came into his line of sight then as she approached him.

“God, is it time already?” Barry groaned, looking at his watch.

Five days in a row of getting up at half past four in the morning was starting to take its toll on him now. Nevertheless, he gently shifted out from under Lucy and started to get up, only to have Elizabeth put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“You rest,” she said quietly, “You’re the only one who’s been getting up every day to go to the food dispersal. Felix said he would go again today with Adam this time, so you could get some sleep.”

Barry frowned at her.

“I’m fine,” he said, “I can go.”

“Let the other guys handle it,” she said stubbornly, “You deserve to sleep in one morning.”

“Is this because of the food thing?” Barry asked then, “Because I’m completely fine. I know my limits.”

Elizabeth laughed lightly.

“Barry, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone push their limits as much as you,” she said, “You’re sleeping in today, so just deal with it and go back to sleep.”

Barry laughed lightly at that and then nodded gratefully.

“Thank you,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

He would have protested more, but he was so exhausted and didn’t really have it in him to fight falling back asleep. He pulled Lucy closer to him then, and he was back to sleep within seconds.

* * *

“So basically, what you’re telling me,” Oliver said, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “Is that I could go in there, find Barry, and try to get him out, but he’d be electrocuted as soon as I got him over the wall?”

“There’s no way to remove Barry from the metazone,” Caitlin confirmed, nodding sadly.

Oliver sighed in frustration.

“Alright, new plan,” he said angrily, “I find this Clinton Price asshole, and I’ll _force_ him to deactivate the microchips and shut this whole thing down.”

“One problem with that,” Joe said sadly, “We don’t have any idea where Clinton Price _is_. Even Cisco can’t find him. Hasn’t vibed a thing about Price, not from a lack of trying, though.”

“We’ll find him,” Oliver said darkly, “And I’ll get him to give in.”

“We’ve been discussing this all night, and we still haven’t gotten anywhere,” Joe said in frustration, looking at his watch.

It was half past four in the morning.

“We should all get some sleep,” Caitlin said wearily, “We’re meeting Cisco at ten tomorrow…or later today, I guess.”

The others all nodded tiredly and all left STAR Labs soon after that. It would be a long day of planning tomorrow.

* * *

Elizabeth was glad she had been able to convince Barry to sleep in. She had thought it would take more convincing, and the fact that it hadn’t showed just how tired he really was.

Lucy was ecstatic to wake up and find Barry still there in the morning. She was used to waking up to find him gone, and she cried most mornings until Kathy or Elizabeth assured her he would be back later. As soon as she was awake, they had to stop Lucy from jumping on Barry to wake him up. She was so excited to spend time with him.

“Let him sleep, sweetie,” Kathy said, “He needs to rest.”

“But I want to play,” Lucy pouted, glancing over to where Barry laid, still sound asleep on the floor.

“Why don’t you go play with the Barbies that Felix found for you?” Elizabeth suggested.

Lucy nodded, not looking overly enthused, but listening anyways. She really was quite well-behaved for her age.

“She’s so attached to Barry,” Kathy laughed as they went back to cleaning.

They were both trying to get the small house to a somewhat habitable state for them all. They didn’t waste any soap or cleaning products, but they at least managed to get quite a bit of the dirt out of the place using just brooms and wet sponges. They were stuck here for now, and things seemed to be slowly stabilizing for the most part, so they might as well make themselves at home as much as possible.

For the first couple days, it seemed as if the food mobs and fighting were never going to stop, but they did, once all of the food had been taken. There was still some lingering competition to find any remaining supplies hidden throughout the zone, but the violence had died down significantly, which they were all grateful for. It gave them hope that they could actually find a little peace in the zone. If food weren’t such a big issue, they almost thought that they could establish a somewhat stable life here until this all blew over.

“I think Barry’s as equally attached to her,” Elizabeth said with a thoughtful smile, “Have you seen the way he looks at her? You’d think she was actually his daughter.”

Kathy nodded.

“I worry about that,” she said quietly as she was scrubbing out the cupboard.

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, frowning.

“He’s too attached,” Kathy said seriously, “I mean, it’s so great and amazing that Lucy has someone like Barry to look out for her, but for Barry’s sake…I don’t know if it’s such a great thing. He would give that girl the world.”

Elizabeth nodded sadly.

“I worry about the whole food situation,” she agreed, “We can’t let Barry starve himself to keep Lucy fed.”

Kathy nodded her agreement.

“I’m going to start giving her some of mine,” she said seriously, “I don’t want to see that boy waste away by giving up all his portions.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“I was thinking the same thing,” she said, “I think Barry has done more than enough for all of us. It’s the least we can do.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without him,” Kathy admitted, “I…I’ve been feeling so lost without my family by my side. I’ve barely even left this house. I wouldn’t have been strong enough to pull it together these first few days to do everything we’ve needed to do to get to where we are now.”

Elizabeth gave her an understanding look.

“I miss my family, too,” she said sadly.

“I miss my kids,” Kathy sighed, “Seeing Barry with Lucy…It reminds me so much of my own children.”

“You have kids?” Elizabeth asked.

Kathy nodded.

“Two boys. Ten and Thirteen,” she answered, “No father in the picture. I have them staying with their grandparents for now. They don’t really understand everything that’s going on. They…they didn’t even know I was a metahuman. I hid it from them this entire time.”

“What was your power?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“Telekinesis,” Kathy answered, “Well, sort of. I could only control _metal_ objects.”

“So you were like a human magnet then,” Elizabeth summarized.

Kathy nodded.

“Something like that,” she said, “I never asked for these powers, though. I hardly ever even used them, and I would give them up in a heartbeat if it meant I could see my kids again.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Elizabeth said quietly.

They were distracted then when they heard a high-pitched squeal of laughter come from the living room. Both women moved to the doorway, looking into the room to find Barry awake and sitting up on the floor with Lucy, both of them with Barbies clutched in their hands. Lucy was giggling wildly at Barry’s antics as he played dolls with her.

Elizabeth laughed and covered her mouth. It was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. Barry looked over at the sound and blushed slightly, putting the doll down and standing up.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly to both of them, “For letting me sleep. I really needed that.”

Kathy gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You’ve earned it,” she said simply.

“And we’ve been talking,” Elizabeth said, “We want to contribute to keeping Lucy fed. We want to give her some of our portions, too.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Barry said quickly, “It’s my decision to give away my portions. I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up yours.”

“We _want_ to,” Kathy assured him, “Whether you like it or not. It’s about time you start worrying about your own wellbeing, too, Barry.”

Barry smiled gratefully at them.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, looking back and forth between the two of them, “Really. Thank you.”

* * *

“It’s so good to see you!” Caitlin said wrapping her arms tightly around her friend.

“You too,” Cisco said sadly, hugging Caitlin in return, giving her a watery smile as they broke apart, “How have you been?”

“Just trying to stay positive,” Caitlin said, “Even if that’s a little hard to do these days, considering the circumstances.”

Cisco nodded sadly and then turned to Iris when she addressed him.

“Have you vibed Barry lately?” she asked nervously.

Cisco shook his head.

“I’ve been trying,” he said, “But I still don’t have much control over my powers. I’m working on it, though, and I’ll tell you the second I get another vibe.”

“What is this place?” Oliver asked as he entered the large building, looking around.

“It’s a branch of STAR Labs,” Caitlin asked, “Wells—well, _Barry_ now actually—owned it.”

“Technically now, _I_ own it,” Joe realized, “Barry transferred all his assets to me.”

“Well, you should use the space for something,” Oliver said, “Put it to good use.”

Cisco nodded his agreement.

“It’s the perfect place to meet,” he said, “Being outside Central City and all.”

“It’s still a little too close to the city for my liking,” Caitlin said seriously, “I don’t like the idea of you being so close to Central, Cisco.”

“I’m fine,” Cisco said dismissively, “We’re at least a couple miles away from the city. Don’t worry about that.”

“Where are Thomas and Jane?” Wally asked.

“I don’t know,” Iris answered him, checking the time on her phone, “I told them to meet us here at this time.”

Their wondering ceased quickly when said couple suddenly walked through the main entrance, and they were surprised to see that they weren’t alone. At least ten other people or so walked in with them.

“Don’t be mad,” Iris said nervously to her father, “I told them they could bring others.”

“You what?!” Joe asked angrily.

“Just give them a chance,” Iris pleaded as the group of people walked up to them.

“Thank you so much,” Jane said to Joe as they approached, “For letting us come.”

“I wasn’t told that you’d be bringing others,” Joe muttered, looking accusingly at his daughter.

“They all only want to help,” Thomas assured him, “They’re all friends of ours. They can be trusted.”

Joe sighed.

“I hope so,” he said quietly.

The group of people all introduced each other. It was actually pretty interesting to see the differences in age and background they all had compared to one another. There were old, young, and every age in between. They all had one thing in common, though: they all had someone they loved on the inside.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” one younger woman asked, “Why are we here?”

Oliver sighed.

“We’re here,” he said irritably, “So we can _establish_ a plan.”

“So there’s no plan then?” one man said, just as irritably, “We don’t even know what we’re doing?”

“Like I just said,” Oliver growled impatiently, “We’re here to _come up with_ a plan.”

“We need to establish our resources,” Joe said seriously, looking around the room, “What does everyone here have to offer? Does anyone here work in government? Or any other field that would be useful to us?”

“I work in federal banking,” one man said, “I mean, it’s not like I control the MRA’s funding or anything, but I might be able to get us some financial information for their agency.”

Joe nodded.

“That could be useful.”

“I have some information,” one woman said, stepping forward to address the group, “I don’t work in any special field, but I live in Coast City. It’s all been very quiet as far as the media goes, but I think the MRA is expanding. They’ve been driving trucks through Coast City for the last week or so, and they seem to be establishing some sort of base just outside the city. Nobody really knows what they’re doing there, though.”

“That could be big,” Oliver said seriously, “Felicity will look into it more.”

Felicity nodded and started jotting down notes.

“How did we not know that already?” Iris asked nervously, “I work at the CCPN, and I never heard anything about that.”

“Well, if we’ve learned anything about the CCPN it’s that they’re on Price’s side,” one man said harshly, looking at Iris.

“It’s true,” Iris admitted, “I’ve tried to write several articles to expose the MRA for what they’re really doing, but my editor won’t publish any of them. He seems to be right in Price’s pocket, only running stories that work out in the MRA’s favor and covering up anything that might be damaging to the MRA’s image. I’m so close to quitting at this point.”

“Don’t quit,” Oliver said seriously to her, “We need someone in the media. You might not be able to get anything published in our favor, but the CCPN is a hub of information that we need someone to keep track of.”

Iris nodded.

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to win a political fight like this with the media being so one-sided,” Henry said, “We don’t really have any way to expose the MRA if the media won’t run any stories against them.”

“We’ll find a way,” Cisco said, “We don’t need the media to get the information out there.”

“It’s true,” Iris said, “People knew all about the Flash from my blog long before the CCPN started running any stories about him. We don’t need the CCPN to spread our message.”

“You’re the Flash reporter?” Jane asked her, eyes widening.

Iris nodded.

“I was,” she said sadly, “Now, I’m mostly just writing fluff pieces to ‘keep up morale.’”

“Do you know what happened to him?” Jane asked, “What really happened to the Flash? Is he really dead?”

Everyone in the room looked at her, waiting for her to answer. Iris looked to her dad for a moment before speaking.

“I don’t know exactly,” she said slowly, “He’s not dead, though. I can tell you that.”

They all looked relieved but still extremely curious.

“Do you know who he is?” one girl, maybe slightly younger than her, asked.

Iris shook her head.

“I just write about him,” she said quietly, “I don’t know him personally.”

“Then how do you know he’s not dead?” one man asked skeptically.

Joe spoke instead of Iris then.

“Because if the MRA killed him, they would want us to know about it,” he said firmly, “They would want to make it known to everyone that they had executed the Flash.”

They all nodded, but no one was all that comforted by the idea.

“Why didn’t he stop this?” one man asked angrily, “If he’s such a damn hero, why didn’t he stop this before it reached this point?”

“He tried,” Iris said desperately, “He tried so hard to stop this from happening, to the point where he didn’t even get himself out of town while he still could.”

“He _is_ a hero,” Oliver said angrily to the man, “He’s Central City’s hero, and he didn’t turn his back on his city, even after the city turned its back on him. You should show more respect.”

The man who had spoken looked down in shame.

“This isn’t what we should be focusing on,” Wally said impatiently, “We should be focused on finding Price.”

Oliver nodded.

“Does anybody here have any means of finding out Price’s location?” he asked.

They all looked around at each other.

“We know he’s not in Central City,” Joe said when no one else spoke up, “He probably would have requested a guard detail to be put on him for protection if he were in town, and I haven’t heard anything through the CCPD about him being in the city.”

“He’ll have to come to town, though,” Oliver reasoned, “He’s running for mayor, and the election is in four days.”

“We’ll have to plan something fast then,” Joe said, “If we’re planning to take action when he’s in town.”

“And what action are we planning to take exactly?” Felicity asked nervously.

Joe turned and looked at her seriously, his eyes cold as he spoke.

“An assassination.”

* * *


	16. Painful Vibes

* * *

**Painful Vibes**

* * *

“You want to assassinate Price?” a man in the group asked incredulously, “Are you crazy?!”

“That man has killed hundreds of people already,” Joe said darkly, “And he’s still killing more. There are roughly thirty-seven-hundred people inside the metazone right now, and I don’t think Price is going to stop until he’s killed them all.”

The man who had spoken paled slightly.

“Joe,” Caitlin said, “Are you sure about this? Are you sure about…killing the man?”

Joe looked over at Oliver, who was wearing the same hard expression on his face.

“It has to be done,” Oliver said flatly.

Henry also nodded his agreement when Joe looked at him.

“This won’t end with just Price, though,” one woman said, “Killing him won’t shut the whole thing down.”

“It will weaken the MRA, though,” Wally reasoned, “I say we go through with it.”

A few people in the group were nodding their agreement emphatically. Others were looking around at each other, unsure expressions on their faces. No one, however, protested against it.

“Alright,” Joe said after a moment, “It’s settled then. We’re going to kill Clinton Price.”

* * *

Barry could barely contain his excitement. He could hardly wait to show the others what he had found. The old cookware plant he had been searching had been mostly empty, having been picked over by other scavengers already, but when he had searched the basement of the factory, he had stumbled across a large furnace. One that hadn’t been used in years. One that had to be lit by hand, with _matches_.

Barry clutched the small half-box of matches in his hand as if it were the holy grail. This was huge. He was certain he would have found another way to make fire for them later on when winter came, but this just made everything so much easier for them. He couldn’t wait to show the others what he had found.

“Barry,” Kathy said as she unlocked the front door for him to let him in, “We have a problem.”

Before Barry could even ask what that problem was, he saw for himself. Lucy was crying and fighting to get out of Elizabeth’s grasp as Elizabeth struggled to hold onto her.

“She looked out the window,” Kathy told him.

Barry paled instantly.

“What did she see?” he asked her, his mouth dry.

“Nothing horrible,” Kathy assured him, “She saw other children. They were playing out in the street.”

Barry understood then. He had seen them, too. Other children—some around Lucy’s age, most of them older—had been kicking a ball around in the street right in front of their house. Barry had walked past them on his way out to search for supplies.

“She wants to leave the house,” Kathy told him.

Barry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“She can’t,” he said, “Not yet.”

“She doesn’t understand, though,” Kathy said seriously, “She doesn’t understand why she’s not allowed to go outside when the other kids are doing it.”

“Things have calmed down quite a bit,” Barry said, “But I still don’t feel comfortable letting her out just yet. I’m surprised the other kids are being allowed to leave their units so soon.”

“Well, I doubt their unit members are as protective of them as you are of Lucy,” Kathy reasoned sadly.

Barry sighed and walked over to where Lucy was struggling in Elizabeth’s arms.

“Lucy,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Lucy stopped struggling and looked at Barry with red, watery eyes.

“I want to go outside,” she cried, “I want to play with the other kids.”

Barry sighed.

“You can’t go outside yet, Lucy,” he told her, “It’s not safe.”

“But the other kids are,” she hiccupped.

“The other kids are older,” he said, “And they shouldn’t be outside yet either. It’s dangerous.”

“Why?” she asked.

“It…” Barry started but then closed his mouth, not sure what to tell her.

He looked nervously at Elizabeth, but she seemed to be just as much at a loss as he was.

“There are bad people out there,” Barry said quietly, “There are bad men who aren’t very nice.”

“I won’t talk to them,” Lucy whined, “I won’t talk to strangers, I promise.”

“Lucy…”

“I hate this house,” she cried, “It’s _boring_ here.”

“I know,” Barry said, “I know you don’t like it here, but—”

“I won’t use my powers,” she said, “I promise. I’ll keep them a secret like mommy and daddy told me to. I don’t even have them anymore, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Lucy,” Barry said, “It’s not that…”

He sighed, not sure how to explain this all to her. Lucy hadn’t even told him yet what her powers were. She trusted him, but she told him that her parents told her to always keep them a secret no matter what, and Barry had accepted that.

“Mommy and daddy did this, too,” she cried, “They wouldn’t let me leave the house. I never get to leave.”

“Lucy…”

“I want to go home,” Lucy cried, “Why can’t I go home? With mommy and daddy. Why can’t I?”

Barry tried to swallow back the lump in his throat as tears filled his eyes.

3“We just have to stay here for a while, Luce,” he said in a strained voice, “But I’m going to make sure you go home. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you go home and see your mom and dad again, okay? I promise.”

He hugged her then, pulling her close to him. Lucy wrapped her arms around him as she cried, and Barry looked up over her shoulder to see Elizabeth.

“Barry…” she said softly, giving him a pained look.

“I know,” he said.

He had made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. He meant it, though. He was going to do everything in his power to keep Lucy safe, to get her home to her parents again.

* * *

“Everyone, Cisco needs to rest now,” Caitlin told them, urging them to all back away from the engineer.

“Thanks,” Cisco said tiredly.

As soon as they all found out that he had powers, they had all rushed to Cisco, asking him to vibe their loved ones. Over the last two days, he had managed to vibe a few, using the possessions of the loved ones that people wanted him to check on, but a lot of people were disappointed when he didn’t see anything. At least he hadn’t had to notify anyone of any deaths yet. This whole thing was hard enough as it was without having to be in that position.

“Please, just vibe my husband quick,” one woman begged, holding out a man’s jacket, “Please, just one more.”

“He needs to rest,” Caitlin hissed at her.

“Caitlin,” Cisco said softly, “It’s fine.”

He reached a hand out, and the woman quickly handed him the jacket.

Cisco’s reality shifted instantly, and he found himself standing in the street. The man whom he could only assume was the woman’s husband was on the ground on the sidewalk. Two MRA officers were standing over him.

“Filthy meta scum,” one of them said, kicking him one last time in the ribs before both of them walked away, leaving the man bleeding on the sidewalk.

The image suddenly faded as Cisco was pulled back to his own reality. He came back to being face to face with the worried woman, who was looking at him anxiously.

“Well,” she asked nervously, “What did you see? Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” Cisco said slowly, “He looked like he got his ass kicked pretty good by a couple MRA officers, but he looked like he was going to be okay.”

“Oh, God,” the woman said, covering her mouth, “He never knows how to stay out of trouble. He’s going to get himself killed in there.”

She put a hand on Cisco’s shoulder then.

“Thank you,” she said, “Thank you, Mr. Ramon.”

“No problem,” Cisco said tiredly.

“Come on, Cisco,” Caitlin said, gently grabbing his arm, “You should rest now.”

After Cisco and Caitlin left to find a place for Cisco to lay down, Oliver stepped forward to address the group.

“Alright, everyone. Listen up,” he called, capturing all their attention, “We have a plan.”

They all stopped talking amongst themselves and looked at Oliver.

“Election day is in two days,” he said, “We still have no word on Clinton Price yet, but we do know that he is scheduled to deliver a candidate speech at noon tomorrow in the square. This is the first time we’ve known exactly when and where Price is going to be, and we can’t miss this opportunity.”

“So how are we going to kill the bastard?” one man asked, anger and determination audible in his voice.

“The Green Arrow,” Oliver said calmly.

“Green Arrow?” Jane asked in surprise, “The Star City Vigilante?”

“Yes,” Oliver said, “We have contact with him, and he’s agreed to help us assassinate Price. As soon as Price steps up on that podium tomorrow, he’ll be getting an arrow straight through his chest.”

* * *

Barry felt guilty. He had been so focused on survival and on keeping Lucy safe that he hadn’t realized how unhappy the little girl was becoming. He had been spending most of his time either searching for food and supplies or working on securing their home and repairing the broken radio. Sure, he was doing it all to keep Lucy safe, to keep them _all_ safe, but he had been neglecting her as far as happiness went.

He had only spent a few evenings with the girl, playing games with her whenever he could. He decided to take an entire evening off from everything else to be with Lucy, and the others didn’t object in the slightest. They were happy to see him relaxing for once. He was always so stressed out about everything. It would be good for him to have an evening off from all the hard work he had been doing, especially now that things had calmed down significantly.

“Here, how’s this?” Barry asked, handing Lucy a mirror.

She held it up and looked at herself.

“This isn’t princess hair!” Lucy giggled.

Barry laughed.

“I tried my best,” he said, dropping his hands in defeat.

Elizabeth laughed and sat down next to them.

“I think we finally found something you’re bad at,” she laughed, “You suck at doing hair, Barry.”

Barry chuckled. He had to admit: Lucy’s hair looked ridiculous.

“Here, goofball,” he said to Lucy, “Elizabeth will fix it for you.”

Lucy slid over to Elizabeth, who proceeded to take Lucy’s hair out of the tangled mess that Barry had managed to create.

“Jeez, Bar,” she laughed, “How did you even manage to do this?”

Barry managed a small laugh, but he found it difficult to ignore the churning in his stomach when he heard Elizabeth call him “Bar.” It reminded him of Joe and Iris. They were the only ones who had ever called him that. He found that he didn’t mind the nickname coming from Elizabeth, but it still made him think of his family, which was somewhat painful.

“There, that’s better,” Elizabeth said, handing Lucy the mirror.

Lucy admired herself in the mirror for a moment and then giggled.

“Barry, how do I look?” she asked him, spinning in a circle.

“Like a princess,” Barry told her.

She really was a beautiful little girl. Barry looked at her adoringly for a moment before Adam came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Dude, we have a problem,” he said seriously, “The mice found their way into the food cellar.”

“But I sealed it,” Barry said incredulously.

“Well, you know mice,” Adam said, “They’ll find their way into anything.”

Barry groaned.

“Alright, I’ll figure something out,” he said, standing up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Lucy whined, making Barry feel a twinge of guilt.

“I just have to go downstairs for a little bit,” he told her, “I’ll be right back.”

“But I didn’t get to do _your_ hair yet,” Lucy pouted.

Barry laughed.

“You can do it when I come back,” he said.

Lucy crossed her arms, clearly upset with him.

“Here,” Barry said, handing her a marker, “Can you draw something for me? Draw me a picture?”

“We don’t have any paper,” Lucy told him, confused.

Barry smiled and crouched down by her then.

“You get to draw on the walls,” he whispered in her ear.

Lucy’s eyes went wide.

“I do?” she asked in disbelief.

Barry laughed and nodded.

“Yep,” he said, “You can decorate the house for us. Make it pretty.”

Lucy giggled, clutching the marker excitedly.

“Okay,” she said, running over to the wall by the front door to draw on it.

“I’ll be right back,” Barry said to Kathy, Elizabeth, and Felix.

They all nodded, and Barry went down the basement stairs with Adam.

“See?” Adam said once they were in the food cellar.

He pointed at a bag of bread that had been chewed open. The remaining bread inside was all torn apart, having been nibbled on by mice.

“Yeah, we can’t have that,” Barry sighed, picking up the ruined bread, trying not to think about how many meals they could have gotten out of it.

“We need traps or something,” Adam said, “I’m not going to share our food with these little bastards.”

Barry nodded and ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment.

“I have an idea,” he said suddenly.

He ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and he returned quickly, carrying a small bucket. The bucket had a couple inches of water at the bottom of it.

“What are you going to do with that?” Adam asked, eyeing the bucket skeptically.

“You’ll see,” Barry said, grabbing a jar of peanut butter.

When he opened it and scooped a little bit of it out of the jar, Adam looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. He watched Barry silently as he applied a little bit of peanut butter on the end of a ruler. Barry stooped down then and set the bucket on the floor. He placed the ruler on a shelf so that the peanut butter end was hovering over the edge, right over the bucket.

“Genius,” Adam muttered, understanding what he was doing, “When they go for the peanut butter…”

“The ruler will drop, and they’ll end up in the bucket, where they’ll drown,” Barry said, nodding, “It’s kind of cruel, but like you said, we can’t afford to share our food with them.”

“I gotta hand it to you, man,” Adam said looking over Barry’s makeshift trap, “This is pretty smart.”

Barry smiled at him, and Adam gave him an appreciative smile in return. Adam wasn’t that bad once you got to know him. Sure, he could be a dick at times, but they were all in a scary and very difficult situation. Barry didn’t think Adam was really a bad guy, the same way Barry didn’t think all the MRA officers were pure evil. Some of them had shown to him that they have a human side. One of them had allowed Lucy and Barry to stay together when they first arrived to the zone, and another one had shown them compassion when he allowed them to transport their cart of food back to their unit.

Not everything was black and white here. Not every metahuman was good, and not every MRA officer was bad. Sure, what the MRA was doing to them was horrible, but Barry couldn’t blame the officers themselves. They were just following orders. Who he really blamed was Clinton Price. He was the one who started all of this, and he was the closest thing to evil that Barry could perceive in all of this.

Even Price, though, didn’t believe that what he was doing was wrong. He didn’t personally see the people he was oppressing, the pain he was causing. He had distanced himself from all of it. He didn’t have to look into the eyes of the people he was murdering. He didn’t have to watch as his actions chipped away at their spirits. He thought he was doing it for the greater good. He thought he was in the right. After all, the villain is the hero of his own story.

Not that any of that justified what he was doing. Barry still hated Clinton Price with all his heart, and he wanted to see the man pay for everything he had done and for what he was still trying to do.

Barry was interrupted from his thoughts when he suddenly heard a shout from upstairs.

“BARRY! ADAM! COME UP HERE NOW!”

* * *

Cisco was supposed to be resting. He had spent his entire day vibing peoples’ loved ones for them, and he was exhausted. He couldn’t make himself rest, though.

He had only vibed Barry twice since he was taken, and it had been days since he had seen anything. It was starting to worry Cisco. Was Barry dead? Was that why he couldn’t vibe him? Or was it just his own inexperience with using his powers and the fact that he was exhausted?

Cisco clutched the Flash emblem in his hand, trying to focus on his friend.

“Cisco,” Caitlin said sternly, walking in on him, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to vibe Barry,” he said, unabashed.

Caitlin gave him a sad look.

“It’s late,” she said quietly, “You’re going to wear yourself out, Cisco.”

“I don’t care,” he said, “I haven’t vibed Barry in days, and I’m starting to get worried.”

Caitlin sighed but nodded. She didn’t want to see her friend wear himself out, but she also really wanted to be reassured that Barry was still alright.

Cisco closed his eyes, and Caitlin kept quiet so he could focus. When Cisco suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, she knew that he had succeeded. Cisco stared blankly at nothing for a moment, his eyes unfocused, but he didn’t stay that way for long. Whatever he had vibed, it was brief because a moment later, Cisco’s eyes refocused.

Caitlin could tell instantly that something was wrong just from the horrified expression on Cisco’s face.

“What is it, Cisco?” she asked urgently, “What did you see?”

“It was Barry,” Cisco gasped, “He…he was covered in blood.”


	17. Hard Decisions

**Warning: Language**

* * *

**Hard Decisions**

* * *

Barry hardly even remembered running up the stairs. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he had flashed up them. He was upstairs in an instant, eyes searching for Lucy first, needing to know she was safe. All of them were standing by the front door, Lucy included, and he was instantly relieved to see they were all alright.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, moving over to the door where they were all standing.

His question was answered almost immediately when he heard a frantic pounding on the door.

“Please!” a man shouted, “Please, let me in!”

Barry moved over to the window to see who it was. Looking through a crack in the boards covering the window, Barry could see a man standing on their front step, urgently pounding his fists on the door, begging for them to let him in. He wasn’t wearing an officer’s uniform. He was a metahuman.

“Please!” the man shouted again, “Please, it’s after curfew! My unit is all the way across the zone! I’ll never make it there! The officers are going to shoot me! You have to let me in!”

“Don’t,” Adam said seriously to all of them, “It could be a trick. He might just want to steal our stuff.”

Barry gave Adam a pained look. He knew he was right, but it also felt wrong just leaving the man out there alone.

“What if it’s not, though?” Kathy asked, “We have to help him!”

“And if it _is_ a trap, he could end up killing all of us,” Adam argued.

“Please! There’s a truck coming!” the man shouted desperately, “They’re going to see me! Please!”

“Barry?” Elizabeth asked, turning to look at him, “Barry, what should we do?”

Barry opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know what to do. They were looking at him, waiting for him to make a decision.

“Barry,” Adam said in a hard voice, “You know I’m right.”

Adam _was_ right. They shouldn’t risk it. At the same time, though, Barry couldn’t just turn away someone in need. When Barry didn’t say anything, Adam turned to the door.

“Just find someplace to hide!” Adam shouted to the man, “We can’t let you in here! I’m sorry!”

Barry’s mouth was dry. This didn’t feel right.

“Please!” the man shouted, pounding on the door, “ _Please!_ I don’t want to die!”

Barry made his decision then.

“Open the door,” Barry said firmly.

They all looked at him again.

“No way!” Adam shouted, “Are you fucking stupid?!”

Barry grabbed the screwdriver he had been using to fix the radio and clutched it tightly in his hand.

“If he tries anything, we’ll be ready,” he said, “But I’m not leaving him out there to die.”

With that, Barry moved towards the door to unlock it. Adam yelled and grabbed his arm to stop him, but Barry shoved him off  with enough force to make Adam stumble back quite a bit. Barry then wrenched the door open, and he instantly saw the pleading man’s face morph into an expression of relief and gratitude.

And then he heard the shot go off.

Before the man could even take a step over the threshold, a bullet struck him through the back, exiting out his chest. The man’s eyes went wide and blood splattered everywhere before the man dropped to the ground, right on their front doorstep.

“Close the door!” Felix shouted, worried that the MRA was going to keep shooting.

They slammed the door shut and locked it.

Barry was in shock. One moment the man was standing there, and the next he was dropping to the ground with a hole through his chest, his blood splattering over Barry from head to toe. The screwdriver in Barry’s hand dropped to the floor with a clattering sound.

Barry couldn’t move.

He couldn’t do anything at first but stand there in shock. The only thing that pulled him out of it were Lucy’s screams.

Pulling himself together, Barry quickly moved toward the little girl, and stooped down by her to wrap his arms around her.

“Shh,” he cooed, “It’s alright. Everything’s okay.”

Lucy sobbed into his shoulder, and Barry could feel her entire body trembling. Like him, she was also covered in blood, flecks of dark red staining her otherwise perfect, golden locks.

“Elizabeth,” Barry said urgently.

The woman snapped out of her own haze of shock to look at him.

“Please take Lucy to the bathroom and get her cleaned up,” he said clearly, trying to keep his voice steady.

Elizabeth nodded and took Lucy’s hand, leading her to the bathroom quickly. Barry stood up straight then and turned around. He had already been anticipating Adam’s glare, but what he hadn’t expected was for Adam to suddenly shove him into the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Adam shouted, shoving Barry again, “You could have just gotten us all killed, you fucking dumbass!”

Barry shoved Adam off him, letting his own rage bubble to the surface.

“And if we had just opened the door a couple seconds sooner, that man would still be alive!” he shouted furiously.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one here!” Adam screamed, “I thought you had a brain!”

“Well, I also have a fucking heart!” Barry yelled, “And I wasn’t just about to let that man die!”

Adam snapped then and suddenly swung his fist into Barry’s face, knocking the wind out of him. Barry stumbled backwards, and before he could recover himself, Adam’s fist was striking his face again repeatedly, landing five or six blows before being pulled off him.

“I ought to kill you!” Adam screamed as Felix quickly pulled him away from Barry, “I ought to kill you right now for what you just did! Your stupidity almost got us all killed, you fucking self-righteous dumbass!”

“Adam, come on,” Felix said, leading the livid man out of the room, “Come with me. You need to cool down.”

Adam continued to curse as Felix led him from the room, taking him to the empty bedroom in the house where he could calm down.

“Are you alright?” Kathy asked Barry as he recovered from Adam’s attack, bracing himself against the wall.

“I’m fine,” Barry choked.

He wasn’t fine. He was still trying to process everything that had just happened. It had just been a nice normal evening in their house, a peaceful night in their unit together, and in just a few minutes, that had changed. Just like that, half of them were covered in blood, Adam was trying to beat the shit out of him, and Lucy was crying in the bathroom.

Lucy.

“I’m going to go check on Lucy,” Barry told Kathy, moving towards the bathroom without another word.

When Barry entered the bathroom, it was to find Lucy sitting on the lidded toilet, Elizabeth wiping the blood off her with a wet washcloth.

“Is she okay?” Barry asked worriedly, looking at Lucy.

“She’s in shock,” Elizabeth said sadly, wiping Lucy’s face.

Lucy was staring off into space, her eyes unfocused. She had tears running down her face, and Barry could see that her body was still trembling violently.

“Lucy,” Barry said, kneeling down slowly in front of her, “Luce, look at me.”

Lucy’s watery eyes found his then, and her lip trembled.

“Barry,” she squeaked.

Barry pulled her closer to him then, wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s okay, Lucy,” he said softly, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“But what if something happens to _you_?” Lucy sobbed, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

Barry squeezed her tighter then.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, alright?” he said quietly, “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Is she okay?” Kathy asked as she entered the bathroom.

“She’s going to be alright,” Barry said, still hugging Lucy tightly.

He kissed the top of her head before pulling away from her.

“Lucy, Kathy’s going to take you to get some food, okay?” he said gently to her.

Lucy nodded, and Kathy took her hand.

“Something small,” Barry whispered, “Something with sugar. It’ll help with the shock.”

Kathy nodded and led Lucy from the room.

“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked him then, looking worriedly at him.

Barry sighed and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “I just need to get cleaned up.”

“Here,” Elizabeth said immediately, making him sit down on the toilet, “I’ll help you.”

She grabbed the washcloth and started wiping his face for him.

“Thanks,” he said tiredly.

Barry looked down at the floor as she ran the wet washcloth over his left cheek.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly, as she wiped around his eyes, “You tried to help him.”

Barry sighed.

“I should have let him in sooner,” he said, “I froze. I…I couldn’t make a decision. You were all looking to me to do something, and I couldn’t decide. I just froze.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s not fair that we always look to you to make the hard decisions.”

“Someone has to, though,” Barry said quietly.

Elizabeth was going to say something else, but then she got a closer look at his face.

“Some of this blood is _yours_ ,” she said in surprise.

Barry gave her a meaningful look, and she quickly put two and two together.

“Adam,” she said through gritted teeth.

“He was angry,” Barry sighed, “And scared. What I did…It put all of us in danger.”

“You did the right thing,” Elizabeth said firmly, wiping his face gently now so as not to aggravate the bruises.

“That’s the thing, though,” Barry said heavily, “There was no right or wrong action to take in that situation.”

“You did what you thought was best,” Elizabeth assured him.

“No, I didn’t,” Barry said quietly, “I did what I thought was _right_ , not what I thought was _best_. I used to think they were the same thing, but this place has changed everything.”

“Don’t let it change you,” Elizabeth said firmly, “You’re a _good person_ , Barry. Don’t let what the MRA is doing change that.”

Barry gave her a weak smile then, but it quickly faded.

“I’m more worried about what this is going to do to Lucy,” he said quietly.

Elizabeth sighed.

“She’s going to be okay, Barry,” she said sadly.

Barry wiped away a tear that had leaked from his eye.

“I promised myself that I was going to protect her innocence,” he choked, “I couldn’t even do that.”

“Barry, you’re doing the best you can,” she said, pausing from wiping his face to put a hand on his shoulder, “You’re doing so much for that little girl. Don’t beat yourself up over this. It was out of your control.”

Barry didn’t respond, though, and Elizabeth sighed as she wiped a streak of blood from the corner of his eye, apologizing when Barry winced.

“I’m going kill Adam for doing this to you,” she muttered angrily.

“He’s just scared,” Barry sighed, “He’s hiding his fear with anger right now. I understand why he did it.”

“There’s no excuse for him to _ever_ lay a finger on you,” she said firmly, “We ought to throw him out of the house right now for hitting you.”

Barry’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean that,” he said seriously.

She sighed.

“No, I don’t,” she admitted, “But he can’t just get away with hitting one of our own. We’re supposed to be a team, and we can’t have someone in our group taking out his anger on the rest of us all the time.”

“I forgive him,” Barry said quietly, “I’m not happy with him right now, but…I forgive him.”

Elizabeth lowered the washcloth from his face and looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows in wonder. She could see by looking into Barry’s eyes that Barry was serious. He meant it. He really did forgive Adam.

Elizabeth shook her head at him in wonder.

“Where did you come from, Barry Allen?” she said softly.

* * *

As they were exiting the bathroom, they crossed paths with Felix and Adam in the hallway.

“You go on, Barry,” Elizabeth said, patting his arm, “I’m going to have a word with Adam.”

Barry was going to say something to stop her, but before he could, Elizabeth was already grabbing Adam roughly by the arm and pulling him back down the hallway with her, both of them disappearing into the bedroom.

“Come on,” Felix said, giving Barry a gentle push, “I’ve already talked to him, but if I didn’t get through to him, Elizabeth sure will.”

Barry wanted to go back down the hallway to stop Elizabeth and put an end to all the drama, but he wanted to check on how Lucy was doing more, so he allowed Felix to usher him down the hallway without protesting. When he made his way to the living room, it was to find Kathy laying Lucy down on her place on the floor, tucking Barry’s sweatshirt under her to use as a pillow.

“Barry,” Lucy whined when she saw him enter the room.

Barry quickly crossed the room to kneel down by her as the other two returned to the kitchen, giving them some space.

“It’s okay, Lucy. I’m right here,” Barry said, “Everything’s alright.”

She clutched his arm, and Barry used his other hand to run his fingers through her hair, which was now free of blood. Her hair was free of the blood stains now. He just wished he could take away the stains on her innocent soul. He couldn’t take it back, though. He couldn’t erase what she had seen. No matter what he did, she would forever carry the memory of that man dying right in front of her.

“Is that what the bad men do?” Lucy asked in a scared voice, “They kill people?”

Barry nodded sadly.

“I’m not going to let that happen to you, though,” he vowed, “I promise. I won’t let the bad men hurt you.”

Barry quickly wiped the tears from his eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“You’re going to be okay now, Lucy,” he told her, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“That man…” Lucy said in a small voice, “He looked so scared. Why didn’t we let him in?”

Barry covered his mouth and held back a sob. That was the question he was probably going to be asking himself for a long time. Why hadn’t he just opened the door sooner?

“Don’t worry about that right now, Lucy,” he said softly after a moment, “Try not to think about it, okay? Just try to sleep now.”

“I can’t,” she said quietly, “I’m scared.”

Barry sniffed and wiped a tear from his face. This was what he had been trying desperately to prevent. He didn’t want Lucy to be afraid. He wanted to see her through this without letting her ever be afraid of anything.

“You don’t have to be scared, Luce,” he said, “It’s over now. Everything’s okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know?” she asked, squeezing her small fingers around his wrist.

“Because _I_ was okay,” he said, “When I was little, something like this happened to me, and I made it through it okay. It’s going to take some time, but you’re going to be alright, Lucy. I won’t let anything hurt you, and you’re going to be okay.”

Lucy nodded, tears in her eyes.

“I love you, Barry,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand.

Barry wiped his face and smiled sadly at her.

“I love you, too, Lucy,” he said softly, squeezing her hand in return, “I love you, too.”

Barry heard someone sniff behind him, and he turned to see Elizabeth standing there, while the rest of them were all still in the kitchen. Elizabeth offered him a small, watery smile, and Barry smiled sadly at her in return before turning back to Lucy.

“You should get some sleep now, Luce,” he said gently, running his fingers through her hair again, “It’s okay. I’m right here, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Lucy nodded.

“Can you sing to me?” she asked in a small voice.

Barry let out a soft laugh that sounded more like a sob.

“I’m not a very good singer,” he said softly.

“Please?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

Barry nodded and wiped his face.

“What song do you want to hear?” he asked her softly.

“Anything,” Lucy answered, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Barry nodded.

“How about the song that my mom always used to sing to me?” he said quietly.

Lucy nodded. Barry smiled at her and cleared his throat. He never sang, but he couldn’t refuse this girl anything. He didn’t know if he even still remembered the words, but he found that once he started to sing, it all came back to him, and Lucy’s eyes quickly started to close.

_Close your eyes, it’s okay, It’s just the end, Of a long, long day._

_Go to sleep, Everything’s alright, And I’ll sing a lullaby_

_It’s time for you, to get some rest, But you know who, I love the best_

_So come on, darling, Breathe a sigh, And I’ll sing a lullaby_

Lucy was asleep before he even finished the song. He wasn’t sure if he would have even remembered the rest anyways. It had been a long time since he had heard that song. He had always thought one day he’d be singing it to his own children. He never pictured singing it like this. Lucy wasn’t even his, but it sure as hell didn’t feel that way. Barry was growing to love this little girl more and more every day. He sighed and kissed her forehead before standing up.

He turned around to find Elizabeth still standing there, watching him. He smiled sadly at her before walking toward the kitchen.

“Barry,” she said stopping him.

Barry turned to look at her, and she hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to hug him.

“It’s all going to be okay,” she said softly into his ear.

* * *

When Barry returned to the kitchen, everyone looked up at him. The only person who wasn’t looking at him was Adam, who was looking at the floor. Barry could see a red mark on Adam’s face, which looked suspiciously like it was in the shape of a hand. Barry glanced briefly at Elizabeth, raising his eyebrows at her, before crossing the kitchen to stand in front of Adam.

Adam looked up at him then, a strange look on his face. His expression was a mixture of anger and remorse. Barry didn’t wait for Adam to speak first, though. He simply held out his hand to him.

“We good?” he asked him.

Adam stared at him for a moment before nodding and shaking Barry’s hand.

“We’re good,” he said quietly, “Listen, Barry, I—”

“It’s okay,” Barry said, cutting him off, “I’m sorry, too.”

Adam nodded and looked away again.

“We should all get some sleep,” Felix said tiredly, “It’s been a long night.”

“We’ll go to the dispersal tomorrow,” Adam said to Barry, gesturing towards Felix and himself, “You can stay with Lucy in the morning.”

Barry nodded gratefully.

“I’ll take care of the…the body before she wakes up,” he said softly.

The others nodded silently, and without another word, they all made their way into the living room to try to get some sleep. None of them would be sleeping very well that night.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Lucy’s Lullaby lyrics belong to Jimmy Scott**

* * *


	18. The Assassination

* * *

**The Assassination**

* * *

Cisco and Caitlin both decided not to inform the others about his vibe just yet. They didn’t know what it meant. Barry being covered in blood could mean a lot of things. The blood could have been his own or it could have been somebody else’s, and there was no way to know for sure what had actually happened to him.

Either way, it told them one thing for certain. Barry was not having a good time inside the wall. Of course, they knew that already—how could he be?—but the vibe could only mean that something awful had happened and that Barry had been through yet another terrible experience. Cisco and Caitlin didn’t have the heart to tell the others about it, especially now when there were so many other things going on.

It was the day of their planned assassination, and they all had to focus on the task at hand. In less than an hour, Price would be taking the stage in Central Square to give his speech. This was their one chance to take him out, and they couldn’t afford to compromise that goal by distracting everyone with the knowledge that Cisco had had a vibe of Barry being covered in blood.

Despite their limited amount of time, they had planned everything out meticulously.

Joe had arranged for himself to be a part of Price’s personal security. They all couldn’t believe how much trust the man seemed to have for the CCPD, allowing them to be a part of his guard detail. Price’s security mostly consisted of MRA officers, but there were various members of the CCPD assigned to his protection as well, and Joe had made sure he was one of them. Price didn’t know it yet, but one of the very men who was hired to protect him was in on a secret conspiracy to assassinate him.

Iris was assigned to cover Price’s speech for the CCPN. She had a place right up close to the stage with the rest of the reporters. Reporters from all over the nation had come to cover the campaign. The situation in Central City was slowly attracting the attention of the entire country, and how it was portrayed by the media would play a vital role in how things turned out for those involved.

Joe felt partly uneasy to have his daughter so close to everything with her being in the front row of the audience and all, but he was also partly relieved because then at least she would be in his line of sight throughout the whole thing.

Cisco was frustrated by his inability to be there. He was still at the outer facility branch of STAR Labs, safe outside the city, in the building that had unofficially become their resistance headquarters. All he could do was watch the live feed on television, holding his breath as he desperately hoped everything would go according to plan.

Caitlin, Wally, and Henry were posted in the crowd, along with the other sixteen members of their group, all of them posted strategically throughout the crowd, ready to act in case anything went wrong or things didn’t go according to plan. Most members of their group didn’t really know what role they played in the whole scheme, seeing as most of it was relying on the Arrow’s ability to take Price out successfully. The majority of them didn’t know who the Arrow was or why he was even helping them, but they had no choice but to put their faith in him. The fate of their loved ones rested in the Arrow’s hands. All they could do was listen over the coms and watch as they nervously hoped he would succeed in taking out the man who had caused so much pain and anguish.

Felicity was at STAR Labs, acting as their eyes and ears as she carefully watched monitors and security cameras. This was one of those few situations where she wished she could be more than just a helpful observer. She wished she could do more, actually be a part of the action for once. Sitting in the STAR Labs cortex just didn’t feel like enough this time.

Everyone was in position, ready to follow through with their plan. The whole thing suddenly felt so surreal to each of them. They were really going to kill Clinton Price.

All that left was Oliver, who was currently casing the entire square, checking for any hidden security that they hadn’t noticed. There were snipers posted in the buildings all along the square, stationed there and ready to shoot should anyone make an attempt at Price’s life. Oliver wouldn’t be down in the square, though.

After casing the entire scene, Oliver made his way up to his own post, in a small building just a short distance away from the stage. He made his way to the top floor. The building had already been checked and cleared by the MRA, and they wouldn’t be expecting him to be there now. If they were looking for a sniper, they would be more preoccupied searching the taller buildings surrounding the square. They would be expecting a sniper with a long-range rival, not a bow and arrow.

“Price is taking the stage now,” Joe said quietly into his coms.

The rest of them all tensed, waiting for the infamous Clinton Price to finally make an appearance in the flesh. Joe was standing on the stage, right next to the podium where Price would be standing while delivering his speech. His heart was beating a mile a minute as they waited for Price to arrive.

The crowd for Price was actually quite large. Only the back couple of rows of people were protestors. People not only from Central City, but from all over the state had come to protest against him, others to support him, and there was a surprising number of supporters. It went to show that even with all the protesting, Price still had the support of quite a large amount of Central City. So many people still believed what he was doing was right.

Then again, most people weren’t aware of the living conditions inside the metazone. They didn’t have Cisco telling them of all the awful vibes he had seen, of people digging through garbage to find food, people being assaulted by MRA officers and waiting in food lines just to get a tiny box of portions. For all they knew, the metazone was a nice little segregated community where metahumans could be with their own kind in peace. If people knew the truth, maybe Price wouldn’t have as many supporters as he did.

The crowd all cheered when Clinton Price took the stage. Joe watched as the man climbed the steps and walked confidently up to the podium, waving to his supporters. Joe’s hands clenched into fists as the man approached where he stood. The man who had killed hundreds of people in cold blood, who had tortured his son, cut him open and inserted a disgusting device into his spine, who had ripped Barry away from him and held him prisoner inside a segregated zone surrounded by a sixty-foot-high wall like he was some kind of animal. The man who had caused his family so much pain, was now standing right next to him.

It took everything Joe had not to kill Price himself right then and there. He struggled not to glare at Price as the man stood at the podium, smiling and waving to his supporters. Price looked a lot taller in person than he did on TV. He was a younger man, maybe in his early to mid-thirties at the oldest. He had a handsome face and a full head of dark hair. There was something about him that was…charming. He appealed to crowds just by his appearance alone. It was like he was born to be a politician.

Price waved a hand to silence the crowd. All sound ceased immediately, the crowd going so quiet, you could almost hear a pin drop.

“Thank you, my fellow Central citizens, for coming out to support me on this very important day,” he began.

“Target’s in position,” Felicity said over the coms, “Security is passing by your building in about ten seconds, Arrow. You have to wait until they’re at least forty yards away from you, or you’ll never make it out in time after shooting Price.”

“Ten-four,” Oliver said seriously.

“…through these long and very difficult months,” Price was saying, “But the dark times are over now. Our streets are now free of metas, and both humans and metas can now live peacefully without worry of violence or outrage. People may now leave their homes without fear of being assaulted by a meta criminal. Parents no longer have to worry about their children fraternizing with the contaminated population. We’ve managed to contain this meta plague before it could spread, and as your new mayor, I will make damn sure it stays that way!”

The crowd cheered wildly for Price at these words. Team Flash hardly paid any attention to his speech, though. They were all watching the security, waiting for them get a safe distance away from the Arrow’s post, so he could make his move.

“You’re clear, Arrow,” Felicity said over the com system, “Shoot when you’re ready.”

Oliver drew back the string of his bow, holding the knocked arrow tightly between his fingers at the corner of his lip as he took aim. Putting the crosshairs over Clinton Price’s chest, Oliver took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn’t normally get nervous like this. Normally he kept a clear head, but this time, all he could think about was how he could end it all here.

He could put an arrow through Price’s heart, and doing so would set forth a domino effect, a chain link of events. Clinton Price dies, his organization falls into disarray, the MRA falls to pieces, a new leader no doubt attempts to take his place, but amongst all the chaos, the entire operation falls apart. It wouldn’t be easy. Killing Price would be just the first step, but their hope was that it would create just enough chaos for them to gain the upper hand.

Slowly exhaling, Oliver kept the crosshairs of his bow right over Price’s heart as he slowly released the string, letting the arrow fly. The arrow whipped through the air, passing over the crowd and heading straight for the stage, and in an instant, it passed straight through Clinton Price’s chest.

Oliver’s heart leapt. They had done it. The arrow had passed right through his heart.

But Clinton Price didn’t drop to the ground. Blood didn’t blossom from his chest the way it should have.

Joe looked around and saw the arrow sticking out of the backdrop of the stage. It had passed right through Price without leaving a mark. The only question was _how_?! Was Price really a metahuman this entire time?!

That’s when the screams started. People in the crowd started to panic and scramble to leave the square.

“Arrow, get out of there _now_!” Felicity said through the coms.

“Already moving,” he growled, clearly frustrated that their plan had failed.

Joe and the rest of security moved towards Price to escort him off the stage. Joe felt sick to his stomach as he reached out to grab Price’s arm to lead him to safety. He was shocked, though, when his hand passed right through him.

“No worries, gentlemen,” Price said, a smile on his face, “I’m safe in my home in Blue Valley right now.”

“You’re a hologram,” Joe said, eyes wide in understanding.

Price nodded, a smug look on his face.

“With all that’s going on, I was advised to stay clear of Central City for the time being,” he said simply, “With all these protestors and extremists around, I suspected it was only a matter of time before someone made an attempt at my life, and I was right.”

He looked over at the arrow sticking out of the back of the stage.

“And it looks like I have the most extreme of the extremists after me now,” he said thoughtfully, “The Green Arrow, himself. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that.”

It took a while to calm the chaos after the failed assassination attempt. Oliver managed to escape no problem before any security could get to him. Calming the disorder and the panic amongst the crowd took the entire afternoon. It wasn’t until after things had settled down that the group met back at their headquarters outside of the city.

“What happened?!” Oliver roared as he entered the building, “The arrow should have gone right through his chest! I saw it!”

“It _did_ go through his chest,” Joe sighed, “It passed right through him. He wasn’t really there. Never was. It was a hologram from the start.”

“He knew we were coming?” Iris asked in a scared voice.

Joe shook his head.

“I don’t think so. I don’t know,” he said, “It seemed more like a precaution than anything else.”

“Well, now he knows that we’re gunning for him,” Oliver said seriously, “This is a disaster!”

“The media is blowing up right now,” Iris said, looking at her phone, “I should get to the CCPN.”

The others nodded, and she left in a hurry.

“This is just perfect,” Henry said bitterly, “Now Price is onto us. He knows we’re after him now.”

“And he knows we have the Green Arrow on our side,” Joe added.

Oliver sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I hope Iris can help control the media,” he said, “Because right now, all we’ve managed to do is paint Price as a martyr. The public opinion is not going to be in our favor now. It would have been worth it if we had succeeded, but now…”

Felicity nodded.

“A failed assassination attempt is only going make things worse now,” she concluded, “The media is going to make us out to be extremists and terrorists.”

“Well, we _are_ extremists,” one man in the group said, a scared look on his face, “We just tried to assassinate a mayoral candidate!”

“No, we tried to assassinate a _murderer_ ,” Cisco corrected firmly, “We’re the good guys here.”

“Well, the public isn’t going to see it that way,” one woman said worriedly.

“Then we’ll _make_ them see it that way,” Wally said simply, “We’ll show them that we’re on the good side.”

“Wally has a point,” Caitlin said, “We’ve been going about this all wrong. We should be more focused on exposing the MRA for what they’re really doing. Trying to take out Price this soon was a premature move on our part.”

“So what now?” Henry asked, “What’s our next move?”

Joe sighed and rubbed his eyes. This day had not at all gone according to plan.

“Right now we do damage control,” he said, “Make sure we cover our asses and that no one finds out more about our operation. Price knows we exist now, but he doesn’t know where we are or who’s behind any of it, aside from the Green Arrow. We’re going to keep it that way.”

“And then?” Wally asked.

“And then we’re going to expose them,” Oliver said harshly, “We’re going to make sure the public knows exactly what’s going on inside that wall.”

“What about Price, though?” Jane asked worriedly, “What are we going to do about him?”

“We’re going to figure out where he really is, and we’re going to find out what his endgame is in all this,” Oliver said firmly.

“He’s in Blue Valley,” Joe said then.

They all looked at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Cisco asked after a moment of silence.

“He told me so,” Joe explained, “After the assassination attempt, he said he was safe in his home in Blue Valley.”

“Felicity,” Oliver said immediately.

“I’m on it,” she said, tapping away on her keyboard.

“Did he say anything else?” Oliver asked Joe, “Did he give away anything else that could help us?”

Joe shook his head.

“He didn’t exactly sit down with me and explain his evil plan,” he said.

Oliver sighed and nodded, rubbing his temples with his fingers, thinking. His head suddenly snapped up then, his eyes going wide.

“Maybe he will, though,” he said slowly.

“What?” Joe asked, confused.

Oliver didn’t answer right away, though. He turned his back on them and started pacing back and forth, thinking.

“He won’t sit down with you and explain his plan, but maybe he will with me,” Oliver said, “The mayor of Star City.”

The others all looked at each other.

“You want to sit down for a meeting with Clinton Price?” one man asked incredulously.

Oliver nodded.

“It could be the only way to get to him,” Oliver said, “To get a chance to see him in person.”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” Felicity asked skeptically, “Kill him in his office? That might be a little hard to get away with.”

Oliver shook his head.

“No, but it could be an opportunity to learn more about him,” he said, “Maybe even gain his trust.”

“This is crazy,” Henry said, “You really think you can get Clinton Price to tell you anything?”

“He’s bound to let something slip,” Oliver reasoned, “What could it hurt?”

 “How do you know Price will even meet with you, though?” Thomas asked him, “What’s even your excuse to arrange a meeting with him?”

“They’re postponing the election because of the assassination attempt,” Oliver said, “At least one good thing came out of this. It bought us more time. I’ll meet with him under the guise of wanting to offer my support in his election. Really, only a fool would refuse to meet with me if they could potentially gain my mayoral support.”

The others all looked at each other. It was a risky move. It would put Oliver on Price’s radar. But if Oliver was willing to take that chance, then maybe it would be worth it to try. It was the best move any of them could think of in order to get more information on Price.

At this point, _any_ information would be better than nothing.

* * *

Barry was at his breaking point. He was exhausted, hungry, and missing his family terribly. He had been holding up the best he could, though, staying strong for everyone else. For Lucy.

But now it was all getting to be too much, what with everything that had happened the night before. Now, Kathy was hunched over, scrubbing the blood off the wall by the front door. Blood had sprayed all over the pictures Lucy had drawn, tainting them along with everything else. Adam and Felix were still at the food dispersal, and Lucy was currently sitting on the floor, playing Barbies with Elizabeth.

The little girl was handling everything better than Barry thought she would. She wasn’t quite as giddy and wild as she normally was, but she was still smiling, still playing, just not as carefree as before. She was too young to fully understand everything that had happened. She understood that the man at their front door had died, that the bad men outside had killed him, but being only five years old, her young perception of death wasn’t entirely able to grasp the gravity of what had happened.

Barry found himself envying her. He wished he were just a child again, that he could be blissfully naïve to the severity of the situation they were in, that he didn’t have to make life and death decisions every day and that he didn’t have so many people looking to him and relying on him to make those decisions.

Barry looked out the crack in the window to watch the MRA officers loading the body up into the truck. He had moved it earlier that morning, dragging it a little ways down the street and hiding it behind some bushes so that Lucy wouldn’t see if she decided to peak out the window again. Barry felt dirty, not just from handling the fresh corpse, but from just the idea of what he had done. He had the man’s blood on his hands, both figuratively and literally, and no amount of scrubbing could ever wash it away.

“I’m going to go check the traps,” Barry said quietly to Elizabeth and Kathy, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Both women nodded, and when Lucy was distracted, Barry slipped out the front door.

He had set up multiple snares throughout the zone, hoping to catch a rabbit or some other critter that could provide them a little extra sustenance. He was concerned about their food supply. They didn’t have much in terms of protein, and their food was dwindling rapidly even though they had only been there for ten days. Feeding six people took a lot of food, and even with them rationing the way they were, Barry knew they were going to run out of food fast.

He had set up several snares throughout the zone, mostly in parks and the less populated areas of the zone. His traps were well-hidden, so the chances of someone else stumbling upon them were slim. On his way to his first trapping spot, Barry passed by a couple of MRA officers. They were both just standing and talking with each other alongside the street, posted there simply to keep an eye out for trouble. They weren’t bothering or stopping anyone as long as no one was doing something they shouldn’t.

Barry tried not to glare at them as he walked past, tried not make eye contact with them at all for that matter. Just the sight of them angered him. They simply stood there, talking, completely carefree. One of them was even eating a granola bar, which only pissed Barry off even more. Here he was, scavenging for food so that he and his unit wouldn’t starve, and one of them one eating a fucking granola bar right in front of him, right in front of all the starving people who were walking past, searching the zone for food scraps.

It was more than just insensitive. It was insulting and disgusting.

Trying to clear his mind of the absurdity of the situation, Barry continued down his path to check his snares, making his rounds to check them all. Of all the traps he had set, Barry managed to snare one squirrel. He was happy when he found it. At the same time, though, he felt guilty. He didn’t enjoy killing things, but this was about survival, and he wasn’t left with much of a choice. A squirrel wouldn’t provide them with much meat, but it was something. After gutting it with the shard of glass that he was using as a knife, Barry put the squirrel in his bag and continued on his way.

As he walked back to the house, he wondered if all of this was even worth it. He probably burnt more calories walking his daily loop through the zone to check his traps than he got out of it, but if it meant feeding his unit, it would be worth it.

Barry could no longer deny to himself that he felt dizzy as he walked. The hunger was starting to get to him, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore each day. The rest of his group, even Adam occasionally, had been giving Lucy small parts of their portions every now and then, which helped a lot, but Barry was still giving her a significant amount of his every day.

He would have been able to get by just fine if he wasn’t burning so many calories every day searching the zone for food, supplies, and firewood. It also didn’t help that he was getting so little sleep. He had only slept in once since he had gotten here, and that wasn’t nearly enough. He hadn’t felt this sleep deprived since he had been the Flash trying to repair the city by night after the singularity, and even then, he had had his powers to get him through it.

With the hot, August sun beating down on him, Barry started to sweat as he walked down the street. He was still so far from his unit, and the trek back seemed so daunting now, especially when his stomach started to churn. He was so hungry, he could puke, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him when he really thought about it. He never would have thought that intense hunger could cause nausea, but then again, he didn’t think he had ever been this hungry before, even when he was being held in the MRA facility. He had been hungry then, but this was more than that. This hunger ran deeper, and it was a new feeling for him.

Barry paused and leaned against a light post to rest. He had felt fine all morning, and now he suddenly felt awful, like it was all hitting him at once. He wasn’t just sweating from the walk anymore. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat, and his legs were shaking. His hands were clammy, and he could feel all the blood draining from his face. What the hell was happening to him?!

He had felt like this only once before, and that was after he had tried to chase down Dantem Black after he had robbed the awards ceremony that he and Iris had been attending. Hypoglycemia had been the cause in that scenario, and Barry supposed that that was what was happening to him now. His body was going into shock from the low blood sugar that came with not eating enough.

That, or he was finally reaching the ketosis stage of starvation. Maybe his body was finally flipping the switch and going into “survival mode,” as people often called it, relying on energy from burning fat and muscle tissue rather than energy from food. He really wished he didn’t understand the science and the physiology of all of it. **[1]**

He hoped that it was just hypoglycemia and that his body wasn’t starting to consume itself for energy. That would mean that he was truly starving then. Either way, Barry found that he didn’t really care at the moment. All he could focus on was the fact that he felt like shit.

Barry took deep breaths as he leaned against the light post, trying to suppress his nausea and recover from his dizziness. He should have sat down entirely. He probably would have been fine if he had just sat down, but Barry _didn’t_ sit down on the ground. Instead, he found himself _hitting_ the ground as his vision tunneled and he lost consciousness.

* * *

**[1]     Hunger _can_ cause these symptoms. When a person is starving, their body tends to adjust within three to four days to the lack of food—or longer if the person is eating small amounts regularly—because it goes into ketosis. The person might actually feel completely fine—aside from being hungry—but eventually a rush of toxins is released into the blood stream as the body breaks down fat and muscle for energy, and this causes nausea, vomiting, palpitations, and fainting. This can happen at any point in starvation, but it most often occurs in the early stages when the body is still adjusting.**

**Not to get all medical on you guys. I just didn’t want you to think there was some other thing going on with Barry. His symptoms are only from the early stages of starvation.**

* * *


	19. Curfew

* * *

**Curfew**

* * *

Something was touching Barry’s wrist, the one with the barcode on it, and someone was definitely breathing in his face. Whoever they were, they had some major coffee breath, and the smell made Barry want to puke. Barry instantly twisted his head to the side to escape the repugnant odor.

“Oh shit!” someone shouted, “He’s alive!”

Barry’s eyes snapped open, and he came face to face with a man with sandy blonde hair. It only took Barry a moment longer to notice that the man was wearing an officer’s uniform. Barry scrambled away from him, pulling himself back until he was sitting up with his back leaning up against the post that he had been bracing himself against before.

“Woah, easy, dude. We’re not going to hurt you,” the officer said.

Another officer was standing behind him, and he was laughing hysterically.

“I think he almost made you shit your pants,” he chuckled, laughing at his fellow officer.

“Well, how was I supposed to know he was still alive?” the other man said, “He sure looked dead to me.”

“Guess that’s one less corpse for us to load up in the truck then,” his buddy said, shrugging.

Barry looked around him. The streets were mostly empty, and the sun was setting already. It had been late-morning when he had collapsed. He must have been laying here all day. Barry clutched his pounding head. There was a slight lump on his temple, probably from when he had hit the ground. He then urgently looked around him.

His bag was gone. More than that, his pockets were turned inside out. Someone had searched him and taken everything off of him while he was passed out. He quickly checked his arm and let out a breath of relief. At least he still had his watch. It wasn’t the value of it that mattered to him—nor to his robber apparently—it was the fact that it was the watch Joe had given to him, the one that had been passed down in Joe’s family and then to Barry. Barry would have felt awful if he had lost it.

It was then, looking at the watch, that Barry realized the time. It was ten to nine.

“You better hurry up and get back to your unit before curfew starts,” one of the officers said seriously to Barry, no longer laughing.

Barry nodded, his throat dry as he started to get up. The officers watched him with intense looks on their faces as he struggled to get his balance back. One minute they were laughing and joking around with each other. The next they were staring at Barry like they were getting ready to shoot him. They _were_ going to shoot him, Barry realized. In ten minutes, they were going to shoot him. The idea of it seemed so absurd. It was hard to believe that they were now standing civilly next to him, but if it were ten minutes later, they would be open-firing on him.

One of them, the young blonde one, was looking at him with what looked like might have been pity, but Barry didn’t think they were going to be lenient with him, even if it wasn’t necessarily his fault that he was out this late.

Without saying a word to the officers, Barry took off across the street, rounding the corner until he was out of sight from them. He ran down the street as fast as he could, panic welling in his chest. His unit was a good twenty minutes away—fifteen if he really booked it. He wasn’t going to get back in time.

The sun was almost down already, the streets darkening. Barry cursed when the street lights went on. This was the first time he wasn’t grateful that the power was still working in the zone. The cover of darkness would have been comforting. An MRA truck drove past him as he ran. The officer in the passenger seat gave him a look, but they didn’t do anything. It wasn’t nine o’clock yet. Instead they continued driving down the street, turning the corner out of sight.

Barry looked down at his watch. Four minutes left. He decided to get off the street. He was much too exposed there, what with the street lamps and the occasional MRA truck driving past him. He took the yards instead, cutting through bushes and hopping fences as he went. He had a stitch in his side, and his lungs felt like they were going to explode, but he kept running for as long as he could.

He was frustrated when he had to pause to catch his breath, leaning up against the side of a house. If he still had his powers he would have been there already, no problem. He looked down at his watch again, and his blood ran cold. It was 9:01.

Barry pressed his back tight up against the house and tried to make himself as small as possible when a truck drove past, headlights shining. He held his breath until after the truck had passed by and let out a breath of relief once it was gone. His heart was racing, and he was already covered in cold sweat. It was hard not to panic now that it was officially past curfew. Barry took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. It was after nine o’clock, yes, but that didn’t mean he was doomed. He wasn’t about to get himself shot like the man on their doorstep had just the night before. He just had to be smart.

He knew it was probably hopeless to go pounding on doors like the man from last night did. Doing so would leave him standing out in the open, a sitting duck for any truck that drove by. No, he had to find a way back to his unit without letting any MRA officers see him.

Barry took a deep breath and looked around him first before taking off again. He was still so far from his unit, and he was partly worried that he wouldn’t be able to find it in the dark. It was hard to keep track of where he was when he was running through yards and hopping fences rather than taking the streets. Barry came across some obstacles that seemed impossible to get past, but he found that when you were literally running for your life, no obstacle was too much for you. No fence was too high, no bush too thick. Adrenaline spurred him on and got him through every obstacle. He was going to be sore in the morning from this, but hopefully he would still be alive.

Barry stopped again and looked around. Thankfully, the surrounding houses looked familiar to him. He was only a block or two away from his house. Another truck drove past, and Barry ducked down in the bushes closest to him. He found the sheer amount of security the MRA had in place unnerving. There were guards everywhere, some driving around and some patrolling the streets on foot.

Barry was pretty confident, though, that if he just stayed hidden, they wouldn’t find him. It wasn’t like they were actively searching all the yards and bushes throughout the zone. They were just patrolling the streets. Barry was managing to remain calm as he waited for the coast to be clear, but that calmness was suddenly thrown to the winds when he heard a loud bark.

They had dogs.

* * *

They all glared at the screen that Clinton Price’s face was currently occupying while giving a very lengthy speech over the evening news.

“And so, my fellow citizens, we have nothing to worry about. The assassination attempt was a failure, and I am completely fine. I was anticipating a move like this. A man like myself—one who is trying to change the world—doesn’t do so without making enemies along the way. These extremists, these _terrorists,_ we can’t let them see our fear. We can’t let them win.

“Anarchy is their goal, and they will resort to murder, terrorism, and God knows what else to achieve it. With anarchy comes chaos, and with chaos comes violence. I assure you, Central City, my men and I are working hard to find the people responsible for this attack, and I promise, _we will find them_. I will keep our beloved city safe. You have my word on that.”

“Turn this shit off,” Joe said angrily, standing up from the couch and walking over to the other side of the room to glare angrily at the wall.

Henry did as he asked and turned the TV off with the remote, setting it down on the coffee table silently.

They were all in Henry’s new apartment, just outside the city. It was the perfect place to spend their downtime when they weren’t at headquarters. It was close to their headquarters, and the best part was that Cisco could be there with them. Cisco was currently living there actually. Henry had offered to let him stay with him while all of this was going on.

Cisco felt kind of weird about it, living with Barry’s dad, and strangely guilty. For over half his life, Barry had wanted nothing more than to live with his father, and now Cisco was the one living with him. It was sort of weird. Cisco didn’t know Henry very well, and things were more than a little awkward at first. Barry’s dad was a friendly guy, but he didn’t talk much, especially now when all he did was worry about his son.

“This will blow over, Joe,” Henry assured him, “The public will see things our way eventually.”

“We were so stupid,” Joe sighed, “ _I_ was so stupid. What was I thinking? Going after Price like that. All we’ve accomplished is to turn him into a martyr now. We shouldn’t have been so gun-ho. We should have thought this through more.”

“It’s not over yet, dad,” Iris said firmly, “Oliver is meeting with Price tomorrow. We’re not giving up just yet.”

“You bet your ass we’re not,” Cisco agreed.

Iris smiled at him. Wally also nodded.

“Price hasn’t won yet,” he said seriously.

Cisco looked over at Caitlin then, who was sitting quietly in the corner, not saying a word. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention to what any of them were saying. She was just sitting there, staring off into space.

“Caitlin?” Cisco asked, causing her to jump and look at him, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, giving him an unconvincing smile, “I’m just…thinking about Barry.”

She gave Cisco a meaningful look then, and he knew right away what she meant. She was thinking of his vibe. Cisco cleared his throat then and looked around at the rest of them.

“Everybody, I have to tell you something,” he said in a strained voice.

They all looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

“I uh…I vibed Barry yesterday,” he said quietly.

“You what?!” Iris asked, “And you didn’t tell us?!”

Cisco shook his head slowly, his expression serious.

“What is it, Cisco?” Joe asked gravely, immediately picking up on the fact that something was wrong, “What did you see?”

Cisco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I saw Barry,” he said quietly, “And he was…he was covered in blood.”

Everyone in the room went completely silent. They all stared at Cisco in shock.

“Oh, my God,” Henry finally whispered, breaking the silence.

“We don’t know for sure that it was his, though,” Cisco said quickly, “I only got a small glimpse, but in my vibe, Barry was standing. He was standing in a doorway, covered in blood. At least he wasn’t laying on the ground or anything.”

“Did he look hurt at all?” Iris asked worriedly.

Cisco drew the memory back to the forefront of his mind, remembering how Barry had looked. He didn’t look like he was hurt, but Cisco would never forget the haunted expression on Barry’s face, his watery eyes wide open in shock. He had clearly seen something that had shook him to his core, and Cisco could only imagine what that was, considering all the blood.

“No,” Cisco said quietly, “No, he didn’t look hurt. But Barry had this look on his face…”

Cisco sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t find a good way to explain this to them. He would never forget the expression on Barry’s face. He couldn’t get the image out of his head.

“He saw something,” Cisco finished quietly, “He saw something horrible.”

They all let his words sink in for a moment, all of their stomachs churning as they thought about it.

“Have you tried to vibe him since?” Joe asked Cisco after a moment.

“Of course I have,” Cisco said immediately, “I just can’t get through. I’ve been holding his emblem all day. It’s not working.”

“Maybe the emblem isn’t working because being the Flash isn’t that important to Barry anymore,” Henry suggested seriously.

They all stared at him, surprised by his comment.

“Why would you say that?” Caitlin asked him seriously.

Henry sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, “It’s just a thought.”

“Barry hasn’t been the Flash in months,” Iris pointed out, “And before he had his powers taken, when he was still the Flash, the city was losing its faith in him.”

“So he lost faith in himself,” Caitlin finished quietly.

Iris nodded solemnly.

“Maybe Barry doesn’t think of himself as the Flash anymore,” she said sadly, “Maybe that’s why the emblem’s not working.”

There was a moment of silence as they all sadly pondered that thought. Being the Flash had seemed like such a fundamental part of who Barry was, and the idea that that part of him had been taken from him by all of this was a hard idea to swallow.

“Here,” Henry said, standing up from the couch, “I think I have something that will work.”

He disappeared into another room then and returned a moment later, holding a small object in his hands.

“Barry’s snow globe,” Iris said sadly.

“His _mother’s_ snow globe,” Joe added, staring at the small object solemnly.

Henry nodded.

“He gave it to me right before I left,” Henry said quietly.

“It’s always been Barry’s most prized possession,” Iris said, “Barry has probably touched it a million times. If that doesn’t work, then I don’t know what will.”

Henry held the snow globe out to Cisco then. Cisco nodded and put his Vibe goggles on. He reached out and touched the cold glass with his fingertips, and he instantly felt his reality shift.

They all watched nervously as Cisco vibed, wishing they could see what he could see. They all tensed even more when the expression on Cisco’s face went from strained to an expression of pure anguish. Whatever he was seeing, it didn’t seem like it was going to be comforting or reassuring for them.

Cisco sucked in a breath and pulled away from the snow globe before tearing the goggles off his face.

“What was it, Cisco?” Joe asked urgently, “What did you see?”

Cisco took in another shaky breath and covered his mouth with his hand before answering, clearly trying to process what he just saw before he included the others.

“I saw Barry,” he said after a moment, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Running for his life. He…he was bleeding bad, and it was definitely _his_ blood this time.”

* * *

Barry could hide from the officers, but dogs? No way. They were going to sniff him out. Barry suspected the dog that had barked had already smelled him because the dog was still continuing to bark hysterically. Barry didn’t know what to do. If he ran, the MRA officers would see him for sure. The dog would certainly see him and chase him down. But if he stayed here, the dog was going to find him.

The officers with the dog were all the way down the street from him, so he had a little bit of a head start, but it wouldn’t be enough. He just wasn’t fast enough to outrun a dog, and it was hard not to be bitter about that fact considering he used to be the Flash.

“Reveiren!” someone shouted suddenly, and Barry sucked in a breath.

Most military and police dogs were trained in Holland or Germany and only responded to Dutch or German commands. The police dogs at the CCPD had been trained using Dutch commands as well. Barry didn’t know the CCPD dog trainer well, but the man had told him most of the commands they used. Barry didn’t remember all of them, but he did know that “reveiren” was the Dutch dog command for “search.”

The dog was going to hunt him down.

Barry crouched there in his bush, scrambling to think of everything he knew about defending himself in a dog attack, which was not very much. He knew you were supposed to try to put something between the dog and yourself, something to occupy its teeth while you attempt to take the dog out. He really didn’t want to kill a dog. He loved dogs, but he wasn’t about to let one tear him to shreds, either.

Barry took off his sweatshirt and wrapped it around his left arm. The dog’s teeth would probably still be able to puncture his skin through the material, but at least it would leave his right arm and his two other remaining limbs free to defend himself.

It wasn’t long before the dog found him. Barry shuffled away from the bush as the dog rounded it to attack him.

“Blijf!” Barry shouted, thinking of every Dutch command he could remember learning, “Foei! Volg! Rechts!”

The German Shepard hesitated slightly and slowed to a stop in front of him, still growling menacingly. Barry quickly changed his posture to appear less threatening, putting his arms down at his sides, even though his common sense was screaming at him to keep them up to defend himself. He didn’t look the dog in the eye, knowing that was often seen as a challenge by most canines.

He knew he couldn’t run away or the dog would surely take that as a cue to attack, but he couldn’t just stay here either. The MRA officers were no doubt on their way down the street right now to see what had the dog so riled up. Barry took a step back, slowly backing away from the dog, which was still growling and eyeing him menacingly. He could hear the MRA officers’ footsteps now. They were running down the street towards him. They couldn’t see him yet because of the wooden fence he nearly had his back to, but they were going to find him here any moment.

“Reveiren!” one of the officers commanded again, shouting down the street as he ran.

Barry’s eyes widened when the dog barked suddenly and lunged at him. In an instant, Barry was on the ground, the dog on top of him, viciously sinking his teeth into both of Barry’s arms, ripping and tearing at the flesh. Barry quickly offered up the arm that was covered with the jacket to the dog, wincing when he felt its teeth still puncture his arm through the fabric.

He quickly wrapped his legs around the dog’s body. Using his free arm to push of the ground and gain leverage, he flipped their positions so that dog was under him. The dog instantly scrambled to get out from under him, but Barry locked his legs around the dog keeping it in place. The dog released his arm then and started trying to escape him, but Barry maintained his hold.

It killed him to do it, but Barry quickly drew back a fist and landed a solid punch to the dog’s snout, causing it to cave in. The dog whined and cried out in pain, and Barry quickly used both hands to get a firm grasp on the dog’s head before twisting it, snapping the its neck.

When the dog went limp under him, Barry stood up immediately, gasping for breath. He looked down at the dead dog with remorse, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the horror of what he had done. Barry spun and ran, quickly crossing the street and running into another yard.

He heard shouts behind him and knew right away that he had been spotted by the officers. Just a moment later, Barry heard gunshots and the whistling of bullets flying past him. His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and Barry could feel excessive amounts of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream as he ran. He saw yet another fence ahead of him, but he jumped it like it wasn’t even there.

More shots were going off from behind him, but Barry didn’t look back. He just kept on running, doing what he was born to do. _Run_. The gunshots eventually faded as Barry made it through another yard and then past the street beyond that, putting more distance between himself and the MRA officers. When Barry felt like it was safe, he chanced a brief glance behind him, but he didn’t see anyone pursuing him.

With a jolt, Barry realized he had finally made it to his street. He quickly searched out his house on the dark street and ran towards it, feeling immense relief wash over him. Barry paused and crouched down by the bushes in front of his house, looking up and down the street. He could hear trucks’ engines rumbling, men shouting, and dogs barking from the direction he had come from, but thankfully, his street was still clear, for now. The last thing he wanted to do was lead the MRA back to his unit.

Barry ran up the front steps on the house and pounded on the door.

“Guys, it’s me!” he shouted, “It’s Barry!”

For a horrible moment, Barry thought the door wasn’t going to open. His mind flashed back to the man who had been standing in this exact spot just the night before, begging for them to let him in before the MRA shot him down right in front of them. It had been bad enough for Lucy to see that happen to a stranger. Barry couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing that happen to him.

But the door _did_ open, almost immediately. Elizabeth’s face appeared in front of him, tears in her eyes. Barry didn’t hesitate to slip inside and close the door tightly behind him. He had made it.

He let out a sigh of relief, overwhelmed by how immensely relieved he felt in that moment.

And then that moment ended.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Elizabeth screamed at him, shoving him against the door, tears streaming down her face, “Do you know how worried we all were?! We thought you were _dead_!”

All of them were crowded around him by the door, and Barry quickly saw that Elizabeth wasn’t the only one who was crying. Kathy and Lucy both had tears streaming down their faces, and Felix’s eyes were bloodshot. Even Adam’s eyes looked slightly watery, which surprised Barry the most.

“Elizabeth,” he said softly, trying to calm her.

“No!” she sobbed, “You don’t get to apologize! You had me worried sick! All day, we were worried sick! I—we thought we had lost you! You can’t do that to us, Barry! To Lucy! To me!”

Barry reached out and wrapped his arms around her then. Elizabeth tried to fight it, tried push him off her as she cried, but Barry maintained his hold, and she stopped fighting then as she hugged him back and sobbed into his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said softly into her ear, “Something happened. I…I got held up.”

She pulled away from the hug then and looked at him with watery eyes. She gasped suddenly when she got a better look at him.

“Barry, your arms!” she gasped, looking at his arms in horror.

Barry looked down and was shocked when he, himself, laid eyes on his arms. It was a gory sight. His arms were completely torn apart, huge teeth marks and gashes cutting deep into the flesh. Barry paled when he saw it.

“Oh, wow,” he said in shock, staring at his arms.

It was worse than he originally thought.

“What the hell _happened_ to you?” Adam asked incredulously.

* * *


	20. The Fall of the Flash

* * *

**The Fall of the Flash**

* * *

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth said frantically, holding Barry’s arms under the running faucet in the bathroom, trying to flush out the wounds, “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Elizabeth, calm down,” Barry urged.

“I can’t calm down,” she gasped, staring at his arms in horror, “Oh my _God_ , Barry.”

Huge chunks of tissue had been torn off his forearms, and some were just hanging on by a thread. The wounds were still bleeding steadily, despite all the pressure they had tried to apply to them.

“Barry, this is bad,” she cried, “This is really, really bad! You could get—”

“An infection,” Barry said seriously, “I know.”

An infection would be fatal in this situation right now. Without antibiotics or proper medical care, a wound like this could be a death sentence if it got infected, and without proper wound care, these wounds would no doubt become infected. Dirt and the dog’s saliva were deep inside the wounds, and if they weren’t properly cleansed, an infection would set in fast.

Elizabeth looked at him with watery eyes, her face ghostly white.

“I’ll go grab those soap packets we found,” she choked, her voice shaky.

“No,” Barry said, taking a deep breath, “I have something else. Just…just grab me a large basin of water.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked him.

“Trust me,” he said, “Just grab me a basin.”

Elizabeth nodded and left the bathroom in a hurry. She returned a moment later with the water for him, and Barry gestured for her to set it on the floor. He reached down in the bathroom cupboard under the sink then and pulled out a small bottle that he had placed there.

“What is that?” Elizabeth asked, staring at the bottle.

“Bleach,” Barry answered flatly, “I found it in the basement when we first got here.”

“You’re going to put _bleach_ in your wounds?!” Elizabeth asked incredulously.

Barry nodded.

“It will hurt like hell,” he sighed, “and it will cause the scars to be worse, but it’s also a powerful antimicrobial. I’ll definitely take the pain and the scars over an infection and septicemia any day.” **[1]**

Elizabeth stared at him as he poured some of the bleach into the water basin to dilute it. He set the bottle aside and took a deep breath, gritting his teeth before quickly submerging both of his arms into the bleach solution. Barry gasped when he felt the horrible pain intensify in his wounds.

“You’re insane,” Elizabeth said softly, tears in her eyes as she watched him.

She crouched down next to him where he was kneeling on the floor and placed a hand on his shoulder. Barry was shaking horribly from the pain. Tears were burning in his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. Elizabeth rubbed small comforting circles into his back as he rode out the fresh waves of pain, his entire body covered in cold sweat.

After a couple minutes, Barry suddenly pulled his arms out of the basin and rushed over the toilet to empty his stomach, gagging and heaving horribly. Elizabeth didn’t know how to comfort him. He was clearly in a lot of pain and had been through a lot tonight. She didn’t know what she could do to make it better.

“Barry?” came a small voice from the doorway.

Elizabeth looked over to see Lucy standing in the doorway to the bathroom, looking with wide eyes at Barry hunched over the toilet as he vomited and blood gushed from the wounds on his arms.

“Get her out of here!” Barry shouted angrily, “Now!”

Elizabeth quickly grabbed Lucy’s arm and led her out of the room.

“Come on, sweetie,” she said, guiding her towards the kitchen, where everyone else was congregated, waiting nervously.

“Why is he mad?” Lucy asked tearfully as Elizabeth sat her down on a chair in the kitchen.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Elizabeth said quickly, “Barry’s not mad at you. He just didn’t want you to see that. Everything’s okay, though. We’re just going to get him cleaned up first, and then you can be by him, okay?”

Lucy nodded tearfully.

“How’s he doing?” Adam asked nervously, leaning up against the counter.

He felt guilty. When he and Felix had returned from the food dispersal that morning to find a worried Kathy and Elizabeth, they had immediately set out to search for Barry. They spent most of the day looking for him, but Adam had to admit, he didn’t take the search seriously, at least not at first. He had just assumed that Barry had found a new building to search or something. They had had no reason really to believe he was in any sort of danger.

It wasn’t until it got to be later in the day that they started to really worry, and he and Felix had searched a little more frantically then. When it got closer to nine, they had no choice but to return to the house without Barry, something the two of them still felt immensely guilty about.

“He’s cleaning out his wounds right now,” Elizabeth told them, “It’s pretty ugly. He’s using bleach to cleanse them.”

“ _Bleach_?!” Felix asked incredulously.

Elizabeth nodded.

“Did he say what happened to him yet?” Adam asked then, “What held him up? And what caused those wounds? It looks like he was mauled by an animal or something.”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Elizabeth said, “He’s a little preoccupied at the moment.”

They all nodded, and Elizabeth sighed.

“I’m going to go back in there,” she said, gesturing towards the bathroom, and when they all nodded, she walked back down the hallway to get back to Barry.

When she reentered the bathroom, Barry wasn’t by the toilet anymore. He had finished throwing up, and he was back to soaking his arms in the bleach solution again. The fluid in the basin was now bright red from Barry’s wounds.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, Barry,” Elizabeth said seriously, “That’s probably why you’re feeling sick.”

Barry nodded, his face ghostly pale. His whole body was sweating and trembling. He was really missing his healing abilities now. Before, he would have shaken this off like it was nothing, but now he was sitting on a bathroom floor, fighting back nausea and feeling like he was going to pass out, all because he was attacked by a dog. Not Zoom. Not the Reverse Flash, or even a metahuman. _A dog_.

When Barry finally pulled his arms out of the basin again, Elizabeth made him lay back on the floor, using an old blanket as a pillow. He didn’t look good at all. His face was white as a sheet, and his eyes were glazed over. He had lost more blood than they had initially thought. Elizabeth’s stomach churned when she looked over his wounds. They were still bleeding sluggishly, but the bleeding wasn’t as profuse as it was before. The wounds looked angry and red, the skin surrounding them appearing burnt and irritated by the bleach solution. It had to hurt like hell.

“I don’t think we have anything to stitch these up,” Elizabeth said regretfully, “It’s going to be one hell of a scar.”

“Just make sure you wrap it good,” Barry muttered closing his eyes against the pain.

Now that the adrenaline was leaving his system, he was starting to really feel the sharp edge to all of his injuries, not just in his arms, but his entire body. His muscles and joints ached terribly, and he was almost certain he had twisted his ankle at some point when he landed after jumping a fence. He also had a terrible pain in his side that he was only just starting to notice.

As Elizabeth was tightly wrapping Barry’s arms with thin strips of white cloth, she gasped suddenly, having noticed the large blood stain blossoming on his shirt, just above his right hip. In an instant, Elizabeth was suddenly pulling up Barry’s shirt to look at it.

“You got shot,” she said in a shocked voice, “Barry…why didn’t you tell me you were shot?!”

“I was?” Barry asked blearily, looking down at the wound.

Huh. He _had_ been shot! He hadn’t even felt it before. His adrenaline was too high for him to notice, and he didn’t even remember feeling the bullet hit him as he was running from the officers. He was so focused on getting home.

The bullet wound was a through and through. It was far enough to the side that it hadn’t hit anything vital, but it was a little more than just a graze wound. Elizabeth immediately started applying pressure to the wound, even though it wasn’t bleeding all that bad now. Barry was starting to feel really woozy and lightheaded, even though he was laying down on the floor now.

“That really sucks,” he mumbled as Elizabeth started cleansing the wound.

Elizabeth could tell that Barry was close to passing out, which both scared her and relieved her. She felt better having him conscious—that way she knew that he was okay—but at the same time, if he passed out, then at least he would be relieved from the pain he was in.

“I can’t believe you got shot,” she said numbly, feeling like she was about to start going into shock, too.

“It’s okay,” Barry slurred, “It’s not the first time.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, “What do you mean it’s not the first time? You’ve been shot _before_?!”

Barry nodded absently, his eyes closed now.

“Twice actually,” he mumbled before losing consciousness completely.

Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of that, and she was left to think silently to herself as she finished cleaning and dressing his wound. She was given even more to think about then when she finished dressing the wound and saw the rest of Barry’s scars. He had scars all over his body!

They looked like they could be surgical scars or something. She could even see where the sutures had been. A few of them, though, had pretty ragged edges and didn’t look like surgical incisions at all. The scars weren’t white with age. They were still a pinkish color, which meant that whatever had happened to him, it had happened recently. Elizabeth decided she would ask him about it when he woke up, right after asking him what the hell had happened to him tonight that had led to him being shot.

* * *

“Everyone, just stay calm,” Henry said, trying to get everyone to settle down.

They all stopped talking at once and looked at him, all of them with worried expressions on their faces.

“Cisco,” he said then, turning to the young engineer, “Tell us _exactly_ what you saw.”

“I saw Barry running,” Cisco said, “It was dark, and he was running from something. His arms were all bloody and torn apart, and there were…”

“There were what, Cisco?” Caitlin asked quietly when he didn’t finish his sentence.

“There were gunshots,” Cisco answered seriously, “There were gunshots going off in the background.”

Iris gasped and covered her mouth.

“Oh my God,” she said quietly.

“Did you see anything else?” Joe asked, his throat dry.

Cisco shook his head.

“No,” he answered, “That’s all I saw.”

Iris started crying.

“We…we need to vibe him again,” she choked, “We need to know that he’s okay. He could be dead right now.”

Cisco nodded and reached for the snow globe again, his goggles covering his eyes. When he touched the glass, he didn’t see anything, though. He saw absolutely nothing.

“What do you see?” Henry asked impatiently.

“I can’t see anything,” Cisco said in frustration, “I’m trying, but…”

He sighed and set the snow globe down.

“My powers are drained right now,” he told them, “I doubt I’m going to be able to vibe Barry again tonight.”

“So, we’re supposed to just sit here?” Iris asked tearfully, “We’re supposed to just sit here all night, not knowing?”

“I’ll keep trying,” Cisco assured her, “But this is the best I can do.”

The others all nodded understandingly. Cisco’s powers were limited, and he was still trying to figure out how they worked. They were lucky he could vibe Barry at all. Most people with loved ones in the metazone didn’t have that. Most didn’t have a clue what was happening to their loved ones on the other side of that wall. Although, right now, that didn’t sound like such a bad thing.

* * *

“Sweetie, try to let him sleep,” Kathy said gently to the little girl.

They all understood why she wouldn’t let go of Barry, though. She had been in tears all day waiting for Barry to come back, and although they had tried to hide it from her, she had no doubt sensed their worry and anxiety when Barry wasn’t back before nine.

Now Barry was lying unconscious on the floor in the living room in his usual spot, shirt removed and bandages covering his arms and abdomen, and Lucy was clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

“What if he gets an infection?” Felix asked quietly.

They all looked at Barry worriedly.

“He took some pretty drastic measures to make sure that wouldn’t happen,” Elizabeth said, visibly shuddering as she thought of the bleach.

She couldn’t get the smell of it out of her nostrils.

“I wonder how he got all those other scars,” Kathy said thoughtfully, looking at Barry’s chest.

“Probably the MRA,” Adam said darkly, causing everyone to look at him questioningly, “I mean, they _did_ torture some people, didn’t they?”

“Only a small portion of people,” Felix said, “Only the ones who weren’t cooperating.”

“Well, Barry must have been one of those people then,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

“I’m more interested to find out what happened to him _tonight_ ,” Adam said seriously, “What could have caused wounds like that?”

“It was a dog,” a soft voice said.

They all looked back towards Barry again and saw that he was awake, gazing blearily up at them.

“Barry!” Lucy cried flinging her arms around his neck, “You’re okay!”

Barry winced but hugged her back.

“I’m okay, Lucy,” he said with a small smile, “Everything’s okay.”

“What do you mean it was a dog?” Adam asked seriously, drawing Barry’s attention away from Lucy again.

Barry sighed.

“A German Sheppard,” he said, “An MRA dog. It attacked me. Apparently, they patrol with dogs after curfew.”

“How did you get away?” Kathy asked him, sitting down on the floor by him.

They all moved to sit in different places throughout the living room, all staring at him, waiting for him to answer. Barry sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“I killed it,” he said quietly, “I killed the dog. And then I ran. I…I can’t believe I made it back without getting killed.”

“Well, if that bullet wound in your side is any indication, I’d say you were pretty close,” Adam said seriously.

Barry nodded.

“I was,” he muttered.

“Where were you?” Felix asked him, “We looked for you for hours, but we couldn’t find you. This zone is way too big. What held you up?”

“I…” Barry said, not sure if he really wanted to tell them the truth, “I passed out.”

They all stared at him.

“You passed out?” Elizabeth said, finally breaking the silence.

Barry nodded.

“I think it was just the heat,” he said quickly, “I was walking all morning, and it was hot today. I must have been dehydrated.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t from lack of _food_?” Adam asked him skeptically, a hint of accusation in his voice.

Barry looked down at the floor and started playing with the carpet, rolling it between his fingers.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, not looking at anyone, “Maybe.”

They all looked at him seriously, and Barry had a hard time looking everyone in the eye.

“You need to start eating more, Barry,” Kathy said worriedly, “You’ve been giving away too many of your portions. We all already aren’t eating enough. You’re making it so much worse by giving away half of your already-limited calories.”

“I’m fine,” Barry said stubbornly, “Like I said, it was probably more dehydration than anything else.”

“Barry,” Elizabeth said, glancing awkwardly at Lucy, “We’ve all been giving up some of our portions, but you’re still giving away way too much.”

Lucy looked back and forth between everyone, trying to understand what they were talking about. Barry gave her a nervous glance, and then looked back to Elizabeth.

“Let’s discuss this later,” he said, looking pointedly at Lucy.

He didn’t want to talk about food portions in front of her. Lucy was still unaware that he had been practically starving himself to keep her from ever having to go hungry, and Barry wanted to keep it that way. Thankfully, the others seemed to get the hint, and someone changed the subject.

“Where’d you get those other scars?” Adam asked him then, looking him up and down.

Barry blushed and rubbed his eyes, sighing.

“Metahunters,” he said bitterly, “But some of them are also from the MRA. I wasn’t exactly… _compliant_ when they first took me.”

“Told you,” Adam muttered to the others.

He looked at Barry again then.

“You’re one of them,” he accused, “One of the type one metas who fought against the MRA in the beginning.”

“Yes,” Barry said firmly, unabashed, “I didn’t cooperate with them. I didn’t _fight_ them necessarily, but I _did_ refuse to tell them my power.”

“So this is partly your fault,” Adam said, crossing his arms, “If people like you wouldn’t have fought back, if everyone had just cooperated, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Adam,” Felix said, “You don’t actually believe that…”

“How can you disagree, Felix?!” Adam said incredulously, “You’re like me! You’re a type two! You and I would have been fine if type ones like him had just cooperated.”

“Adam, if you really believe that, you’re delusional,” Elizabeth said angrily, “This would have happened either way. The MRA made sure of it. They are the only ones to blame, not other metahumans.”

Barry sat up a little more then, glaring at Adam.

“I wish I had fought _harder_ ,” he said through gritted teeth, “I wish I hadn’t ever let them take me in the first place. I should have fought harder from the start.”

“I think we _all_ should have fought harder,” Kathy said sadly, “We all just put our fate in the MRA’s hands, waited until it was too late to fight back. Now, we’re powerless.”

“No one ever thought the MRA was going to go this far,” Elizabeth said quietly, “No one could have predicted this, and no one could have stopped it.”

“The _Flash_ could have,” Kathy said bitterly, “He could have done something, but instead he let this happen.”

Barry felt a horrible twisting sensation in his gut. He felt like he was going to be sick at Kathy’s words.

“This isn’t the Flash’s fault,” Elizabeth said firmly, “I think everyone is remembering things wrong. Everyone’s assuming the Flash just abandoned us and let this happen, but if you actually _think_ about it and remember how things were a few months ago, the Flash was actually doing a lot to try to stop this. It’s our own fault for not believing in him. _We_ abandoned _him_ , not the other way around.”

“Where is he now then?” Adam asked angrily, “I never heard anything about the MRA catching him. The coward probably turned tail and ran.”

“I hope he _did_ ,” Elizabeth said angrily, “At least then we still have hope. At least then, we would know that he’s still out there and that he could still stop this.”

“I think the Flash was killed,” Kathy said sadly, “I think the MRA killed him and just never told the public about it. They wouldn’t want to turn him into a martyr, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t tell everyone they executed him.”

Elizabeth looked over at Barry then, surprised by his silence.

“What do _you_ think, Barry?” she asked him.

Barry sucked in a breath. He didn’t know what to say.

“I think…” he said slowly, “The Flash did everything he could. But he failed. I don’t know what happened to him, but I don’t think we can count on him anymore. I don’t think he was the hero he thought he was. I think he’s gone.”

“You think they killed him?” Elizabeth asked sadly.

Barry shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, “I just…I don’t think there _is_ a Flash anymore, one way or another.”

They all looked down sadly as they thought about it, the room going silent.

When they all finally decided to go to sleep, Barry didn’t think he’d be able to, even though he was exhausted. He had too much on his mind.

It seemed that everyone had their own opinion of the Flash, some good, some not so good. Elizabeth seemed to be the only one who still had faith in Central City’s hero, which was more than what Barry could say about himself. He didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had lost faith in the Flash, too. It had been a while since he had even given _being_ the Flash any thought. He was too focused on survival, on getting through all of this so he could one day go back to his family.

But going back to being the Flash? Barry didn’t know what to think about that. He just didn’t _feel_ like a hero anymore. He didn’t feel like he could make a difference, like he could save everyone. If this place had taught him anything, it was that he couldn’t save everyone, that he wasn’t the hero he thought he was. He wasn’t the Flash, and he wasn’t sure if he ever _could_ be again after this.

This place had brought out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. He had hesitated to open the door for that man, for someone in need, all because he had been too concerned for his own survival. He had struck a man in the face, over a bag of donuts. He had snapped a dog’s neck, because he had been fighting for his life. Barry had done so many things he never would have thought himself capable of. He could hardly recognize himself anymore.

He supposed he shouldn’t put too much blame on himself, though. He wasn’t the only one who had been changed by the zone. Someone had found him, had seen him laying on the ground unconscious today, and rather than help him, they had searched his person and taken everything they could get off of him.

Barry wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t woken up when he did. Would he have been loaded into the back of a body truck? What would have happened then? What did the MRA even _do_ with the bodies? Barry shuddered to think that if he didn’t ever make it out of here, if he died here, his body would be loaded into some truck and taken God knows where. His family would never see him. They would never even get to have a burial for him. He wouldn’t be buried alongside his mother like he would have wanted. He would have ended up in some mass grave or possibly burned or incinerated. He had no clue, and that really scared him.

It seemed silly to him that he was more concerned about what would happen to his _body_ than he was with the actual prospect of dying. He had accepted that dying was a possibility here. That wasn’t what scared him now. No, what scared him was what would happen to the people he left behind, to his family who would never know what had happened to him, to Lucy, who wouldn’t have him to look out for her anymore.

It's strange how just ten days in a place like this could change his entire outlook on everything.

* * *

Oliver sat near the reception desk, drumming his fingers on his knee, trying to think about how he was going to go about this. The thing he was worried about the most, surprisingly, wasn’t what he was going to _say_. He was more worried about keeping his cool.

Oliver was good at putting on a calm face when he needed to. He could smile and act like everything was fine, but deep down, he wanted to _kill_ Clinton Price. He wanted to make him suffer for everything he had done to his friend, to this city.

“Mr. Queen?” the receptionist said, rousing him from his hateful thoughts, “Mr. Price is ready to see you now.”

Oliver nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath through his nose as he walked towards Price’s office door. Getting in touch with Price’s campaign team had been easy, and it had been surprisingly easy to then, by extension, get a hold of Price, himself. He had been approaching this situation like he usually did—as the Arrow—but in this scenario, being the mayor of Star City opened doors for him than being a vigilante did. Joe was right. This was a political fight, not a physical one.

The building where Price held his campaign headquarters wasn’t even located in Central City, which Oliver thought was odd. Instead, it was in Blue Valley, the same city that Price had let slip he lived in. The building itself, however, was rented. It didn’t seem to be where Price normally operated, and as Oliver walked into Price’s office, he couldn’t help but think that the office didn’t seem to be used much. It wasn’t personalized at all, holding very little clutter and no family photos or anything else to indicate that Price used the office regularly.

Oliver took this all in for only a moment because a few seconds after entering the room, he was being greeted by Clinton Price himself, in the _flesh_ apparently, considering Price had been reading something when Oliver walked in, and he closed the file and set it on his desk upon Oliver’s entry. A hologram couldn’t do that.

When Price looked up at him, he gave Oliver a wide smile.

“Mayor Queen,” he said, flashing his white teeth, “Nice to finally meet you.”

* * *

**[1]     I’m sure this is common sense, but just in case: guys, please don’t put bleach in your wounds. This is fiction. Bleach will cause chemical burns! However, if in a survival situation like this where you have to choose between chemical burns and a deadly infection, I’d take the burns. Bleach is extremely effective for killing bacteria. They also say that adding just a FEW drops of bleach to a bucket of water can make it “safe” to drink in a survival situation. That, however, is not something I know to be fact.**

**Use this advice at your own risk.**


	21. New Aquaintances

* * *

**New Acquaintances**

* * *

Oliver gave Clinton Price the most convincing smile he could manage.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, taking a seat in the chair Price had gestured to, “I’ve been following your campaign for some time now.”

Price’s lips twitched slightly at that. He leaned back in his chair and placed his fingertips together, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair.

“Yes, I’m sure you have,” he said slowly, giving Oliver a calculating look.

Oliver gave him an easy smile and sat back in his own chair, highly aware of the fact Price seemed to be analyzing his every move, every facial expression. He was reading him carefully, and Oliver was doing the exact same in return.

“As you know,” Oliver said in a light tone, “I wanted to discuss my potential support of your mayoral campaign.”

Price nodded, and his lips twitched again.

“An action that I would find most flattering, Mayor Queen,” he said, “Were I to believe in the sincerity behind it.”

Oliver’s smile faltered slightly.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he slowly.

Price gave him an amused look.

“You and I both know, Mr. Queen, that you are not here to support me,” he said calmly.

Oliver stared at him, not saying anything for a moment. He didn’t need to, though, because after a slight pause, Price continued.

“You came here today to find out more about my intentions,” he said, “What my plans are.”

“Yes,” Oliver said truthfully, completely unabashed, “It’s true. I’m not fully decided about whether or not I want to support you in your campaign. Frankly, it’s a little hard to blindly support someone who’s plans are so…ambiguous. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what your intentions are for Central City.”

Price smiled.

“I’m afraid I can’t enlighten you too much,” he said, “I’m sure you can understand that that information is sensitive.”

“Yet extremely important to know,” Oliver replied calmly, “We’re not talking about building a new park here, Mr. Price. You’ve been making some pretty drastic changes in your city, and all of this before you’ve even been elected. Tell me, how _did_ you manage to accomplish so much in such a small span of time without even being in office, yet?”

Price let out a small laugh at that.

“It’s all about who you know,” he answered vaguely, “I’m sure you can relate, Mr. Queen.”

Now it was Oliver’s turn to laugh, but there was little humor in it.

“True,” he said, “I was fortunate enough to be born into a family with the right connections. From what I understand, however, you were _not_ so fortunate. From what I’ve heard, no more than a year ago you were a simple salesman, selling life insurance policies. A year ago, no one had heard of Clinton Price.”

Price raised his eyebrows at him.

“You’ve been doing your research,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Oliver said, unabashed, “I always do my research on anyone I’m considering publicly supporting. My reputation is at stake here, too, Mr. Price.”

Price nodded slowly and gave him a small smile then.

“Alright, Mr. Queen,” he said in a businesslike tone, “Let’s get to the point. What do I need to do to gain your support in my election?”

Oliver couldn’t help but feel like there was something very off about the way Price was speaking to him. Something about his words didn’t sound sincere, like he wasn’t actually interested in gaining Oliver’s support for some reason, like he was just humoring him at this point.

“We both know that you’ve managed to accomplish a lot in the past few months in regards to the metahuman crisis,” Oliver began, “I’m just curious what your future plans are for the issue and how you plan to proceed from here once you’re in office.”

Price nodded and leaned back in his chair again, his lips twitching slightly.

“I suppose that’s a fair question,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “However, the way I see it, that crisis has already been solved. Metas are off the streets now. What makes you believe I have any further plans regarding that particular issue?”

“The metahumans,” Oliver pressed, keeping his voice calm and steady, “What exactly are your plans for them? Do you intend to simply keep them in their own segregated zone indefinitely? I’m curious how you plan to make that work in the long term. It’s quite the drain on taxpayer’s money to keep the zone in place indefinitely, not to mention the fact that the protests seem to be _escalating_ rather than diminishing lately. How do you plan to deal with that once you’re in office?”

“You bring up some valid issues,” Price said fairly, “And I assure you, I have plans to deal with them. Central City won’t have to worry about financially supporting the metazone for much longer. I have a better way to manage the metas that are in our custody.”

“What does that mean?” Oliver asked, perhaps a little too intensely, thinking of Barry.

Price’s lips twitched.

“It simply means that you don’t need to concern yourself with that issue, Mr. Queen,” he said, “Like I already said before, the details behind my project are sensitive. I don’t disclose them lightly.”

Oliver didn’t like Price’s use of the word “project,” and he knew that whatever his intentions were, they didn’t mean anything good for Barry or the rest of the metahuman population.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Price, that I won’t be able to support someone who doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me what his plans are for office,” Oliver countered, hoping to force Price’s hand and get him to reveal something.

“Let’s not insult each other’s intelligence here, Mr. Queen,” Price said seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “You and I both know that from the moment you walked in here, you never intended to support me. That much is obvious.”

Oliver stared at him, his face remaining blank and emotionless.

“You’ve already shown that you don’t support my anti-meta policies,” Price continued, “You’ve expressed as much through your own actions as mayor of Star City and even throughout this conversation.”

Oliver let out an emotionless laugh.

“Tell me,” he said, trying to maintain his poker face, “What have I done and said to give you _that_ impression?”

Price smiled.

“Your use of the word meta _human_ , for one thing,” he said.

Although his face didn’t change, Oliver felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He hadn’t even thought about that.

“And let’s not forget,” Price continued, “that you have recently built a statue in your own city, honoring none other than a vigilante. You openly support vigilantism, Mr. Queen, and I don’t think it’d be unwarranted for me to assume that that support extends to Central City’s own vigilante, the Flash.”

“It’s true that I’ve supported vigilantes in my city,” Oliver admitted calmly, “However, the Black Canary was _human_. The Flash is not. It’s a little bit of a hasty generalization on your part to assume that my support of one vigilante extends to the support of another.”

“Like I already said, Mr. Queen,” Price replied, a smug look on his face, “Let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. I don’t know if you’re just another meta sympathizer or if you personally know someone on the inside of my little zone—frankly, I don’t really care—but it’s quite obvious where your true loyalties lie. Let’s drop this little pretense that you have any interest in supporting my noble cause and talk candidly about this like the two politicians we both are.”

Oliver’s expression grew dark then as he decided to finally let all pretenses drop.

“There’s nothing _candid_ about politics, Price,” he growled, “And there’s nothing _noble_ about your cause. What you’re doing isn’t for the greater good, no matter how much you tell yourself that. What you’re doing is murder.”

Price’s smile deepened.

“Finally,” he said, “Your true colors show. You sympathize with those abominations. You’re one of the people who would rather see our city become overrun with the soulless, violent, meta population.”

“You’re damn right, I’m a sympathizer,” Oliver said angrily, “How can you not see that they’re people?! How can you just guiltlessly _murder_ an entire group of people without a second thought?! And then you have the nerve to say that _metahumans_ are the ones who are soulless?!”

The corners of Price’s lips turned up slightly.

“You know someone inside the wall,” he said thoughtfully, “You’re close to one of them.”

Oliver glared at him, not saying anything. Price chuckled lightly.

“It makes sense, I suppose,” he said, “Why else you would take the initiative to come to me with this whole little campaign support charade? Tell me, who do you know that’s in my custody? A friend? A family member?”

Price was trying to get a rise out of him, trying to trick him into giving something away. Oliver wasn’t going to let it work, though.

“You have over two-thousand people inside your makeshift slums, Price,” Oliver said, his voice quivering in anger, “I don’t need to personally know a single one of them to feel a sense of responsibility to take action against your anti-metahuman campaign.”

Price stood up then, a small smile still occupying his face.

“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this, Mr. Queen,” he said pleasantly, offering his hand to Oliver to shake, “It’s been a pleasure discussing this with you, but it’s clear that neither of us is going to change the other’s mind on this particular issue.”

Oliver stood up from his chair and glared at Price’s outstretched hand.

“No,” he said, refusing to shake the other man’s hand, “I guess we’re not.”

Price lowered his hand then, but the smile remained fixed on his face.

“Security will see you to the exit, Mr. Queen,” he said calmly, “It’s been a pleasure talking this over like two civil human beings, unlike others who have looked to end my campaign in less amicable ways. Please, be sure to say hello to the Star City vigilante for me, should you cross paths.”

Oliver’s hard expression didn’t waver at these words. He simply glared at Price with eyes full of loathing before security came and escorted him from the room.

* * *

“Barry, you should be resting,” Kathy chastised when she saw Barry busy at work in the kitchen.

He had been healing for the last four days since his run-in with the MRA earlier that week, and he had barely rested at all. They had all refused to allow him to leave the house to search for supplies or anything else, but Barry still found plenty of other ways to keep busy around the house.

“I have to get this done today,” he said seriously, “I should have thought about doing this earlier. I’m such an idiot.”

Kathy walked over to see what he was doing. Barry was pulling out jars and filling them with water, a small bag of potatoes sitting on the counter next to him.

“What are you doing?” Kathy asked, looking at his supplies with confusion.

“We’re going to run out of food,” he said seriously, “ _Fast_. We haven’t even been here that long, and we’ve gone through so much of our food already. There’s only so much food in this zone left for us to find, and frankly, we’re probably burning more calories searching for it than we’re actually getting out of it. I was thinking last night that it would help if we had a way to _grow_ our own food. The only problem with that is that it’s August already, and we wouldn’t be able to grow anything that would be ready to harvest before the fall. That’s when I thought of this.”

Kathy looked skeptically at the items Barry had strewn over the counter.

“And what is _this_ exactly?” she asked, still confused.

“We can grow potatoes inside,” Barry said excitedly, “Potatoes don’t even need dirt to grow initially. They can sprout in water alone, given they have the right environment.”

He started inserting small slivers of wood into a few potatoes.

“The potatoes we have are old, meaning they’re starting to sprout already,” he explained, “By submerging the sprouts in water and placing them in a sunny spot, we can allow them to produce more potatoes for us to eat.”

“Wow,” Kathy said, watching him work, “I never would have thought of that.”

“Potatoes are one of the best things to grow, as far as vegetables go,” Barry said happily, “They’re not super high in calories, but they’re mostly carbs and starch, like rice or pasta would be. They’re one of the more nutritious foods we could have, and they’re easy to grow. Did you know that they’re one of the few foods that are grown in all fifty states? And they’re also the first food ever grown in space.”

“Wow, you’re pretty enthusiastic about potatoes,” Kathy laughed.

“Barry just gets excited about everything,” Elizabeth chuckled as she entered the kitchen, “Your inner nerd is showing, Barry.”

Barry laughed and blushed.

“Well, at least my inner nerd is going to help keep us fed,” he laughed.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. Even after everything they had been through, Barry was still so positive. He was still so optimistic all the time. For a moment there, she thought things were starting to get to him, that this place was breaking him, but he kept proving her wrong. Every time the metazone pushed him, he pushed right back. He didn’t give up easily, and it was one of the traits Elizabeth admired about him most.

Barry set up his makeshift mini greenhouses near the back window, one of the few windows that still allowed any light to pass through.

“I’m still worried about getting enough protein, though,” he said thoughtfully.

Kathy put a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be fine,” she said softly, “You’re doing enough, Barry.”

Barry smiled sadly at her and sighed.

“I’m going to go get a little fresh air,” he said, “It’s kind of stuffy in here with all the windows closed and boarded up.”

Kathy nodded.

“Maybe we could open the front and back door for a bit,” she suggested, “Let some air flow through here.”

Barry gave her an unsure look.

“Things aren’t that bad now, Barry,” Kathy said, “Things have really calmed down. The only time when it _isn’t_ calm or safe is when it’s after curfew. During the day, things really aren’t that bad, actually.”

Barry sighed.

“I suppose,” he said, “Just for a bit. The fresh air will probably be good for Lucy. She never gets to leave the house.”

Kathy nodded sadly. The poor girl had spent over two weeks inside the stuffy house with little to do.

“You know,” Elizabeth said slowly, “I’ve been seeing more and more children outside lately. Maybe Lucy…”

“Not yet,” Barry said forcefully.

Elizabeth clamped her lips together, not surprised by Barry’s immediate dismissal of the suggestion.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Barry said sincerely, “I know I’m being overprotective. It’s just…if anything happened…”

“We understand, Barry,” Kathy said, “We worry about her, too.”

Barry nodded sadly and then left the room. He passed through the living room where Lucy was currently taking her afternoon nap, sleeping soundly on the floor, curled up with Barry’s sweatshirt. Barry watched her sleep for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, before he turned and walked through the front door. He sighed as he sank down on the bottom step of the porch.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and a light breeze played on his face as he sat there. It wasn’t even humid out today, and if the circumstances were different, Barry may have even enjoyed it.

Sure enough, as Barry looked around the street, kids were outside, playing and running around, enjoying the clement weather without a care in the world. Other people moved about as well, not frantically or urgently, not rushing to get food or supplies back to their units like they were two weeks ago when they first got here.

Things actually seemed…calm. Pleasant, even. Barry didn’t really know how, but at some point things had calmed down. The zone had stabilized. People were no longer killing each other for food scraps because really, there were no more food scraps left to fight over. Most of the zone had been thoroughly picked over by this point, and now they seemed to have achieved what Barry hadn’t thought was possible. They had achieved peace.

A small red, ball suddenly came tumbling up the front path towards him, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. Barry stood up from the steps and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. Suddenly a young boy, maybe about ten years old or so, came running up to him.

“Can I have my ball back, mister?” the kid asked, holding out his hand.

He was looking at Barry nervously, as if he was unsure of whether or not he should even be talking to him. Barry gave the boy a kind smile and handed him the ball. The kid took it back with trembling hands.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

“Peter!” a man’s voice suddenly called out urgently, “Peter, where are you?!”

The man came running down the street, calling out frantically for the boy. When he spotted him standing next to Barry in his yard, he sighed in relief.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” the man said, striding up the front path to grab the boy’s arm, “What did I say about going outside?”

“Always stay in sight,” Peter answered.

“Please try to remember that,” the man said wearily, “I can’t have you running off on me like that.”

He looked up at Barry then.

“Sorry,” he said, straightening up.

Barry shook his head and smiled.

“It’s no problem,” he said, “I know what that’s like. I have a child in my unit, too. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who can be overprotective.”

The man laughed. He stuck out his hand then.

“I’m Miguel,” he introduced himself to Barry.

“Barry,” he answered, shaking the man’s hand.

“This your unit?” Miguel asked, looking at Barry’s house.

Barry nodded.

“Looks like we’re neighbors then,” Miguel laughed, “I’m two houses down from you.”

“You’re officially the first neighbor I’ve met then,” Barry said pleasantly.

“I’m trying to get to know all the people in the area actually,” Miguel said, “I think it’d be good if we all looked out for each other.”

Barry nodded thoughtfully.

“I agree,” he said with a smile, “I didn’t even consider that, but it’s a good idea. Maybe we could all help each other out.”

Miguel smiled widely at him.

“Great,” he said, “It’s always good to have allies, especially in here.”

Miguel glanced down at Barry’s arms then, taking in the white cloth-like bandages that were wrapped around them.

“What happened there?” he asked curiously, gesturing towards the bandages.

Barry looked down for a moment before answering.

“Just a small run-in with a couple officers,” he replied vaguely, “I should be fine. I know how to take care of the wounds.”

Miguel nodded slowly, giving him a sympathetic look. His eyes widened suddenly then.

“Are you a doctor?” he asked urgently, “Or do you have any medical experience?”

Barry chuckled lightly.

“No,” he answered, “I mean, not unless you count dead people. I was a crime scene investigator.”

“But you know _some_ stuff, right?” Miguel pressed, “You must know _some_ medicine, even if it’s just for dead people.”

Barry shrugged.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he said slowly, “I had to be educated in human physiology and pharmacology. I know quite a bit of the _technical_ aspects of it. Obviously, I don’t practice medicine, though, or provide any medical care.”

Unless you count when he saved Oliver after he had been injected with an overdose of vertigo, but that hadn’t exactly been quality medical care that he had provided. He had injected him with rat poison as a makeshift blood thinner, and if he was being honest, that had been an extremely risky move. Rat poison was an extremely potent form of warfarin, and Barry was just lucky that he had diluted it to the right potency or Oliver probably would have died from some form of internal bleeding.

Barry knew some things, but he was definitely no doctor. He wasn’t Caitlin or his dad.

“Maybe you can still help us,” Miguel insisted, “We’ve been looking for someone with any medical background. _Some_ knowledge is better than none.”

“What do you need help with?” Barry asked curiously, “Is someone hurt?”

Miguel shook his head.

“We have a woman in our unit,” he said, “She’s pregnant.”

Barry paled slightly. This was no place for a pregnant woman.

“And they put her in _here_?!” he asked angrily.

Miguel nodded sadly.

“They put _children_ in here,” he pointed out, “Is it really that surprising?”

“True,” Barry sighed, glancing briefly at the kids who were still playing in the street near them, “But what if the baby isn’t a metahuman? What if it’s only the mother?”

Miguel shrugged, a sad expression on his face.

“I think they’ll still see the child as contaminated,” he said hopelessly, “I’m sure you’ve heard all the stuff they were saying over the last few months about the dangers of reproducing with metas.”

Barry nodded and gritted his teeth. He had heard of it all right. He had even heard it mentioned several times that metas should be sterilized so that they couldn’t reproduce. It was disgusting.

“So, you want me to help,” Barry said quietly then, not really a question but a statement, “You want my help with the pregnancy.”

“She’s almost eight months pregnant,” Miguel said, nodding, “We don’t have much time, and we don’t know what we’re going to do when the baby comes. None of us know how to safely deliver a baby.”

Barry shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t know much about that either,” he said honestly, “I have a very basic understanding of the whole process. I don’t know how much help I would be.”

“We’d feel better to have someone there who at least knows _some_ medicine,” Miguel urged, “I know you’re not a doctor, but it would be a huge comfort.”

Barry nodded slowly and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll see what I can do to help,” he said finally.

“Thank you!” Miguel said, grinning, “Josie will be so relieved! We’ve all been so nervous about the whole thing, and we don’t have that much time before the baby comes. Thank you so much!”

Barry sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“No problem,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help—of course he did—but Barry had enough on his plate right now, and this was just one more thing that he now had to worry about, one more thing that he now had to feel responsible for. Barry couldn’t have said no even if he wanted to, though. He was incapable of _not_ helping someone in need, and a part of him hoped that maybe doing this would help him ease his guilt slightly over the man whom he had hesitated to help. Nothing would ever fully absolve him of that guilt, but he could at least try to make up for it.

He wasn’t the Flash anymore, but he could still _try_ to be a hero.


	22. Light

* * *

**Light**

* * *

Iris sniffed and wiped her face. She could hardly see what she was doing with the way her eyes kept blurring.

“Henry, where do you keep your silverware?” she choked, opening drawers at random.

“The drawer you just opened, Iris,” Henry said softly as he was pulling out jars of jelly and peanut butter.

“Oh,” she said, sniffing again as she reopened the drawer and pulled out a butter knife, which she dropped almost instantly.

“I’ve got it,” Henry said gently, stooping down to pick up the utensil as Iris grabbed a new one.

“Thanks,” she squeaked when Henry handed her the peanut butter.

She sniffed again as she started spreading it on the sandwiches she was making for everyone.

“Cisco’s trying, Iris,” Henry whispered, watching her work.

“I know,” she muttered, still looking down at the counter.

“Barry’s going to be fine,” Henry said.

His voice wavered slightly, which didn’t evoke very much confidence.

“He could be _dead_ right now, Henry,” Iris choked, looking seriously at Barry’s father, “What if the reason why Cisco can’t vibe him again is because he’s dead?”

Henry looked brokenly back at her.

“Cisco told me he hasn’t had his powers long,” he reasoned, “He’s still learning how to use them.”

“I know Cisco’s trying,” Iris said, her voice cracking slightly, “It’s just so hard…not knowing.”

Henry nodded.

“It’s hard for _everyone_ who has a loved one in the zone,” he said quietly.

“I almost wish Cisco hadn’t vibed Barry in the first place,” Iris said bitterly, “I’d almost feel better not knowing anything, rather than knowing he…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Henry knew what she meant. In Cisco’s vibe, Barry had been badly hurt and he had been running for his life, gunshots sounding in the background. The vibe didn’t leave room for much hope, and at this point, they were really starting to think that Barry might be dead.

Iris felt a horrible ache in her chest every time she thought about it. Her mind kept reverting to the night Barry was taken. Was that going to be the last time she ever saw him? What had she said to him? She had told him she loved him, of course, but she hadn’t said everything she wished she could say now. Everything had happened so fast when they were trying to hide Barry in that wall, and now Iris felt like there were a million other things she wished she had said to him before he was ripped away from her. Would she ever get the chance to tell him how she really felt about him?

“I saw Barry!” Cisco shouted, bursting into the kitchen, “I vibed him!”

Iris dropped the butter knife for a second time.

“What did you see?!” she demanded instantly, “He’s alive, right? Was he okay?!”

Cisco gave her an uneasy smile.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “He’s alive.”

“Thank God!” Iris cried, “What was he doing in your vibe?”

Cisco sighed and thought of his vibe…

* * *

_“I’m done,” Barry said in a broken whisper, “I’m just done.”_

_“Barry…” a young woman said, putting a hand on his shoulder._

_Barry shrugged it off and didn’t say anything._

_“Barry, everything is going to be okay,” she said, but the tears in her eyes and the underlying tone of her voice said something else entirely._

_“Nothing about this is okay!” Barry screamed._

* * *

Cisco looked nervously up at Iris and Barry’s father. He didn’t know what to say to them. Barry was alive, but he was broken inside? He couldn’t tell them that. He couldn’t tell them about yet another ambiguous vibe he had had. He just wished that he could tell them something positive for once.

“He was alive,” Cisco said slowly, “And he was talking to someone. A woman.”

“What was he saying?” Henry asked curiously.

Cisco gave him an uneasy look and then shook his head.

“I’m not sure,” he lied guiltily, “I couldn’t make out the words. What really matters is that he’s alive.”

It wouldn’t do any good to tell them. He didn’t even know what his vibe meant. It had felt very murky, the way that his vibes usually do when they haven’t yet come to pass. That meant that there was a chance that the vibe, whatever it was about, wouldn’t come true at all. It was just a possibility.

It didn’t do much to boost morale, though, so Cisco kept the rest to himself. Barry was alive; that was the important thing.

* * *

It was another full week before Barry finally allowed Lucy to go outside. He didn’t let her go far from the house at first, and he stayed within what seemed like a few feet of her the entire time, always keeping a watchful eye.

The little girl was ecstatic to play with other children again. Barry felt guilty for waiting this long to let her out of the house, but he had wanted to be absolutely sure it was safe first. The first time he let her go outside, there was a tense moment when an MRA truck drove past. Barry ran her back into the house so fast, he almost would have thought he had used his powers if he didn’t know any better.

The MRA usually didn’t give people trouble if they weren’t doing anything suspicious, but Barry had noticed they had been a little trigger happy lately. They seemed to shoot anyone who was acting even the least bit fishy, and they didn’t bother to ask questions. It was easier for them to just shoot the person.

The wounds on Barry’s arms were healing, but _very_ slowly. Surprisingly, the wounds from the dog gave him more trouble than the bullet wound did. With the bullet wound, he couldn’t really twist his torso or lift anything too heavy, but his wounded arms prevented him from doing so many things for fear of contracting an infection. He couldn’t do anything that could potentially contaminate the wounds.

That’s why when he went to the lake later that week, he had to take the others with him. He couldn’t have his arms in the bacteria-filled water, especially since it was a small lake and not a creek with flowing water. The water in the lake was still and stagnant, making it easier for bacteria to grow. A creek or river would have been much better; it would have been a safer water source and would have been much easier to fish.

Lucy had wanted to come along so she could see the lake, but Barry had adamantly refused to let her go. The lake was way too far from the house, and he wasn’t going to risk bringing her into harm’s way. Felix, Adam, and Elizabeth came with him. Kathy had gone with Barry to retrieve the food dispersal that morning and was too exhausted to go along, so she stayed behind at the house to watch Lucy.

“You want me to get _in_ the water?!” Adam asked incredulously.

“That was kind of the point,” Barry said, crossing his arms.

“How does me getting in the water help us catch fish?” Adam demanded.

Barry sighed.

“You see that log over there?” he asked, pointing at an old, water-rotted log that was sticking out of the water, “People have been fishing this lake for over thirty years. Do you know how many fishermen snag their lures on logs like that? I guarantee there are multiple lures caught on it. If I didn’t have open wounds on my arms I’d go in and retrieve them myself, but I can’t.”

“He’s right,” Felix said, “I’ve been fishing my whole life, and I’ve snapped more lines than I can count by having my lures get snagged on moss-covered logs like that.”

“Fine,” Adam said and reluctantly tore off his shirt.

Thankfully, it was still warm outside, so the water wasn’t too cold. It didn’t stop Adam from cursing, though, as he waded into the lake. As Adam made his way out to the log, Elizabeth turned to Barry.

“So, what do you need me for?” she asked, “Not that I mind, but why did you need me to come along?”

Barry felt his face heat up, and he looked down at the grass, unable to look Elizabeth in the eye.

“I…um,” he said awkwardly, “I kind of need your…”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him when he didn’t finish his sentence.

“My what?” she asked curiously..

“Your b-bra,” he stuttered.

Elizabeth blinked at him.

“You need my _bra_?!” she asked in confusion.

Barry felt his ears go red to match his face.

“The straps,” he muttered, “They’re most likely made from polyester elastic. It…it makes good fishing line.”

Elizabeth stared at him, and Barry continued to stare at the ground, his face burning. And then Elizabeth laughed.

“You should know,” she said as she reached behind her and under her shirt to unclasp the bra, “I’m not normally talked into taking my bra off this easily.”

Barry laughed.

“I didn’t think so,” he chuckled.

“But desperate times call for desperate measures,” she sighed, handing him her bra once it was removed.

Barry blushed as he took it from her. He then sat down on the ground and got to work cutting the bra apart, unweaving the thick, elastic thread from the straps.

“White or clear line would have been better,” he muttered as he focused on reweaving the material to make a strong line from it, “Hot pink is going to be more visible to the fish.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly thinking about fish color preferences when I was getting dressed,” she joked.

Barry laughed as he wove the fishing line. Just then, they heard a shout from Adam in the water.

“Found one!” he called over to them as he started to wade his way out of the hip-deep water.

“Great,” Barry grinned when Adam handed him the lure he had found.

He examined it carefully and grinned.

“This is a good find,” he said excitedly, “It’s a shallow running crankbait lure, perfect for this lake. Whoever was using it was probably fishing for largemouth bass.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“You sure do know a lot about fishing,” she said.

“My dad and I used to go,” Barry said quietly, “We haven’t gone in…a long time, though. He and I were talking about going on a fishing trip soon, but…we never found the time.”

Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Barry gave her a sad smile.

“Don’t be,” he said with a forced smile, “He and I will just go once we all get out of here.”

Elizabeth gave him an uneasy smile, not voicing what they all already knew, that there was a chance they may never be released back into society. There was a chance they may not even survive here—not all of them, at least. Yet, even amongst all this darkness, Barry remained hopeful. He didn’t lose his light.

After making the line and threading the hook, Barry wound the line around a small, but thick, wooden stick he had found. They didn’t exactly have a fishing rod and reel, but Barry insisted this setup would still work, just not as effectively. He handed the finished product to Felix then. Felix gave him a questioning look.

“You said you used to fish,” Barry said simply.

“Yeah,” Felix said slowly, “But you seem to know more about this stuff than I do. I’m more used to fly fishing.”

Barry shook his head.

“It’s not that different,” he assured him, “As long as you know how to cast and set a hook, you can do it. I’m going to work on building a fishing trap.”

Felix nodded and walked toward the lake then, Barry’s makeshift fishing rod in hand.

“You’re making a trap?” Elizabeth asked, “For fish?”

“An Indian fishing trap,” Barry said, nodding as he started grabbing all the sticks and branches he could find.

He settled on the ground again and started weaving the branches together. Once he had constructed several net-like “walls” of sticks, he set to work installing them in the water, taking care not to get his arms wet in the process. Adam and Elizabeth watching him curiously.

“How does this work?” Adam asked skeptically as he watched Barry build a little cage-like space with the sticks along the edge of the lake.

“Fish are really stupid,” Barry said, “A lot of them will swim their way into the small open space I’ve left in the cage, and then they won’t be able to find their way back out.”

“Why would they swim in it in the first place?” Adam asked doubtfully.

Barry shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said simply, “They just do. They’re curious, I guess. You can catch fish with a lot of different things. A jar, for example. You leave a jar in the water long enough and fish will swim into it for some reason. It’s strange.”

They ended up staying at the lake for a few hours until it started to get dark. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to catch any fish. Barry assured them it was only because they had spooked the fish by stirring up the water so much. There was a good chance they’d have much better luck when they came back tomorrow.

It was only a few minutes before curfew when they got back to the house. They had cut it pretty close this time, but they had made it back in time, and they were safe. The four of them were dead tired and looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep. It seemed like they weren’t the only ones. When they walked into the house, it was to find Kathy asleep on the couch.

Barry looked around instantly, his gut wrenching when he saw that Lucy wasn’t in sight.

“Where’s Lucy?!” he asked urgently.

The others looked around too then, all with worried looks on their faces. With panic rising in his chest, Barry rushed toward the sofa and roughly shook Kathy awake.

“Kathy!” he shouted, startling her awake.

She blinked up at him with tired eyes.

“Where’s Lucy?!’” Barry demanded urgently.

Kathy’s eyes widened then as she looked around her, tiredness completely forgotten.

“Oh, God,” she said, her eyes widening further.

Barry let out a panicked noise and then raced into the kitchen, then the bedroom and the bathroom. When he found those rooms to be empty, he flew down the stairs into the basement, even though he knew Lucy never went down there. She was afraid of the basement. Sure enough, he didn’t find the little girl down there.

“She must have run off,” Felix said worriedly when Barry rushed back into the living room.

“She wanted to go to the lake,” Elizabeth said, tears streaming down her face, “She wanted to go with us to the lake.”

Barry struggled just to get air in his lungs as he rushed towards the front door then.

“Barry,” Kathy cried, grabbing his arm and looking at him with tear-filled eyes, “The curfew.”

Barry yanked his arm roughly out of her grasp, glaring angrily at her.

“I don’t care!” he yelled, “I’m going to go find her!”

“Barry…” Elizabeth said, covering her mouth in anguish, tears rolling down her face.

“I’m going!” he shouted in determination, “Lucy is my life now! I’m going!”

With that, he wrenched the door open and ran out into the night.

Barry could hardly breathe as he ran down the dimly-lit street. He never wished more than he did in this moment that he had his speed back. He had to find her. He had meant it when he said she was his life now. Lucy was everything to him. He had promised he would protect her, had sworn that he would never let anything harm her.

In all his time as the Flash, through all the situations he had been through, Barry had never felt more panicked than he did right now, running through the dim streets of the metahuman slums, looking for Lucy. He had never wanted more desperately to find someone in his life.

Panic. All Barry could feel was sheer panic coursing through him as he ran.

He ran frantically down the street, heading towards the lake, knowing that’s where Lucy would have been trying to go. The little girl didn’t know these streets, though, and it was more than likely she had gotten lost along the way. Barry reached the lake faster than he would have ever thought possible without his speed, but Lucy wasn’t there.

Barry had tears streaming down his face as he ran down another street, not even thinking about the possibility that he might run into an MRA truck as he searched for the girl he now considered like a daughter. He called Lucy’s name frantically, running harder than he had ever run in his life. The air felt painful in his lungs, and he could even feel a slight tingle in his neck where the power-dampening device was working to suppress his speed, as if it could sense how desperately he was trying to access the speed force right now. He had never wanted the disgusting device out of his body more than he did now, in this moment.

Barry ducked down and hid in a bush when an MRA truck passed by him. He didn’t wait as long as he probably should have after it had passed before he jumped back out and started running again, still screaming Lucy’s name into the dark.

And then he heard it.

A sharp cry of his name. Lucy was calling out to him. Barry’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he called back to her and ran towards her cries. Barry nearly wiped out as he turned and skidded onto another street, and more tears fell from his eyes when a small figure came into view. Lucy was standing all the way down the street from him. Relief washed over him as he sprinted towards her.

The relief quickly transformed into dread, though, when he saw an MRA truck roll through the intersection at the end of the street.

 _Please keep going_ , he thought desperately, _Please don’t see us. Just drive past. Please just drive past and don’t see us._

The truck’s breaks screeched loudly, the sound piercing through the night as the truck came to a stop and then backed up, coming to a halt at the end of the street from him. Barry didn’t stop running. He pushed his body harder than he had ever pushed it before to get to Lucy. Lucy spotted him and quickly started to run towards him. She was still a good fifty yards away from him, though.

And then he heard the shots.

Gunshots boomed loudly into the night, echoing horribly in his ears as he ran towards Lucy, and towards the truck behind her, towards danger. Lucy was thirty yards away from him now, a terrified expression on the little girl’s face as she ran towards him. Barry could see every tear on Lucy’s face as they got closer to each other, now only twenty yards away. Ten yards.

Lucy’s eyes widened when a bullet pierced through her chest.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

Barry’s body collided with hers then, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. Her small frame collapsed in his arms.

“No!” he sobbed, clutching her desperately, “No, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Barry,” a small voice emitted from the small girl in his arms.

Barry didn’t say anything. He didn’t _think_ anything, as he scooped Lucy up in his arms and started to run. He didn’t think. He didn’t _let_ himself think as ran with the little girl in his arms, hardly hearing the booming of more shots going off, of bullets whistling past him. All Barry could think about was getting back to the house. If he got back to the house, everything would be fine. Lucy would be fine. He just had to get her to the house. She was fine.

“You’re okay,” Barry sobbed as he ran, “You’re okay, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Barry hardly registered it when he burst through the door of the house. He hardly heard the others’ words when he entered. It was as if he had suddenly gone deaf.

“We made it,” he choked, “It’s okay, Luce. We made it. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

“Barry,” Lucy’s weak voice squeaked as he lowered her down to the floor, still holding her in his arms.

That’s when his brain allowed him to fully register all the blood.

“Shh,” he said, “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m going to keep you safe, Luce. You’re okay. Everything’s alright.”

“B-barry,” Lucy gasped, her eyes wide as she struggled to get air into her little lungs.

Tears were pooling in the little girl’s eyes.

Barry forced himself to look down then, and the lump in his throat grew when he saw the bullet wound through the right side of her chest. And then he knew.

She was dying.

“No,” he sobbed, clutching the little girl desperately in his arms, “No, no, no, no.”

“Barry,” Elizabeth’s voice choked from behind him

He felt her hand rest gently on his shoulder.

“NO!” Barry screamed at her, “SHE’S GOING TO BE OKAY!”

Deep down, though, Barry knew she wasn’t going to be okay. Lucy wasn’t going to survive. She had been vitally hit, and there was nothing he could to about it. He couldn’t go back in time now and change it. No one could.

_This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. It’s just a nightmare._

He was going to wake up any moment and Lucy would be safe and happy in his arms. She would sleeping with her head on his chest like always. No blood. No tears. No pain.

“Barry,” Lucy said weakly, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” he cried, “I’m here, Luce. I’m right here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“W-will…will you s-sing to me?”

Barry put a hand over his mouth, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as tears streamed down his face. This wasn’t happening. This _couldn’t_ be happening. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

Barry nodded and let out a sob. He shakily lowered his hand and ran it through Lucy’s blonde curls. When he opened his mouth, he could hardly get the words out as he tried to sing. The words were interrupted by his sobs.

_“C-close y-your eyes, it’s okay It’s j-just the end, of a long, long d-day_

_Go to s-sleep, Everything’s alright, And I’ll s-sing….a lullaby”_

Barry struggled to get air into his lungs as Lucy’s eyes slid shut, her long lashes spanning out over her tear-stained cheeks. He continued to run his hand through her hair and clutched her closer to him as he sang.

_“It’s t-time for you, to get some r-rest, But you know who, I l-love the b-best_

_So c-come on, darling, Breathe a s-sigh, And I’ll s-sing a lullaby”_

Tears flowed endlessly from Barry’s eyes as he listened to Lucy’s weak breathing become more strained, her shaky breaths catching in her throat as she struggled to take in air. His grip on her tightened, trying to comfort her any way he could.

_“G-goodnight…goodnight, Let the m-moon, Pour d-down his light_

_Goodnight…goodnight, ‘Til the m-morning comes”_

Barry didn’t know if he could finish the rest of the song. He didn’t know if he could force the rest of the words out, didn’t know if he could even remember them. The memory of his mother’s voice drifted back to him in this moment, though, and he forced himself to keep singing the words. For Lucy.

_“C-close your eyes, and d-drift away It’s j-just the end, Of a long, long day_

_But anytime, The w-world’s not r-right, You c-can sing this lullaby”_

Barry felt the exact moment when Lucy went still in his arms, when her breathing halted and her heart stopped fluttering.

And as her light burnt out, so did his.

Barry had to choke back the wail of agony that was trying to escape his throat when Elizabeth’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

_“Any t-time, The w-world’s not right, You can s-sing this lullaby”_

* * *

**Disclaimer: Lucy’s Lullaby lyrics were written by Jimmy Scott.**


	23. Let Me Bleed

* * *

**Let Me Bleed**

* * *

"Barry."

The sound of Elizabeth saying his name seemed like it was coming from far away. It didn't feel real. None of this felt real. The limp weight of the little girl in his arms didn't feel real. He didn't know how long he had been here, sitting on the floor, holding Lucy in his arms. It felt like it had been minutes and like it had been hours all at the same time. The others all stood behind him, no one knowing what to say.

"I'm done," Barry whispered, not sure if he was saying it to Elizabeth or to himself or someone else entirely, "I'm just done."

"Barry," Elizabeth said brokenly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Barry pulled away from her touch. He didn't want to be comforted right now. He didn't _deserve_ to be comforted right now.

"Barry, everything is going to be okay," Elizabeth whispered, her voice cracking.

"NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OKAY!" Barry yelled at her, tears flowing down his face, "THE WHOLE WORLD IS WRONG! THIS BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL IS NOW DEAD, AND IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF ME! _ALL_ OF THIS IS BECAUSE OF ME!”

"Barry," Felix said quietly, "This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is," Barry sobbed brokenly, his voice cracking, "I wasn't fast enough. I'm _never_ fast enough. I'm the reason she's d-dead. I'm the reason this is happening to us. This is all my fault."

They all stared painfully at him for a moment before Kathy finally spoke.

"W-what…what are you talking about, Barry?" she asked shakily.

Barry let out a gut-wrenching sob, holding Lucy's body tighter to his chest.

"I'm the Flash," he whispered.

No one said anything.

A shocked silence fill the room, all of them not sure if they had heard him correctly. Barry stared at Lucy's tearstained face and didn't look around him to see their reactions. He just didn't care at this point. He didn't care what they thought of him. They could _hate_ him and throw him out of the house right now, and he wouldn't give a damn. Barry didn't care about anything anymore.

"You're the Flash?" Kathy whispered after a few moments of shock had passed.

Barry let out a shaky breath.

"I was," he said in strained voice, "I thought I was a hero, but I wasn't. I failed. I failed everyone. All of us are here because of me. L-lucy is d-dead because of me."

"Barry," Elizabeth choked, gently putting a hand on his cheek to turn his head towards her, "Look at me."

Barry looked at her with hollow, watery eyes.

"This is not your fault," she said firmly, "It's not. No one here blames you. You're just as much a victim in this as the rest of us."

Barry turned his head away from her and didn't say anything. She could tell him it wasn't his fault all she wanted, but he knew the truth; he was responsible for this. For the rest of his life, Barry would carry that awful truth with him wherever he went.

"Barry," Felix said, "We're all heartbroken over this, so I can't even imagine what you're feeling, but—"

"Nothing," Barry said in a dead voice, "I feel nothing. I can't feel _anything_ anymore."

A sob escaped Elizabeth's throat as she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Barry didn't pull away this time. He didn't react to the touch at all.

"Come on, Barry," Elizabeth said quietly, giving his arm a gentle tug, "It's time to get up now. You've been here all night."

Barry had no clue what time it was, but he could see from a crack in the boarded up window that it was starting to get lighter outside. The sun was starting to rise.

Barry didn't move.

"Not yet," he whispered, holding Lucy tighter to him.

"Barry, we need to treat your injuries," she said gently, "You've reopened several of your wounds."

"I don't care," he said in a dead voice.

"You're bleeding," she persisted.

"SO LET ME BLEED!" he screamed, startling all of them, "LET ME FEEL _HUMAN!_ BECAUSE RIGHT NOW, I'VE NEVER FELT L-LESS HUMAN IN MY LIFE!"

Elizabeth drew back in shock.

Barry didn't even have it in him to feel bad about shouting at her. He couldn't let himself feel anything right now. It was all too much. Barry stared down at the precious little girl in his arms, his vacant eyes passing over her young face. He felt so hollowed out inside, as if his heart had been ripped right out of his chest, leaving behind a gaping hole where Lucy used to be. Barry never felt more broken in his life. He would never be able to make peace with her death.

He would never move on from this.

* * *

Cisco ignored the quiet tap on the headquarters bathroom door, hoping whoever it was would just go away. They didn't.

"Cisco?" Iris's voice came through the door, "Cisco, can you please open the door?"

Sucking in a painful breath, Cisco finally replied in a shaky voice.

"Just g-give me a second," he choked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

"Cisco, at least tell us what you _saw_ ," Iris pleaded, "We've all been going crazy out here for the last ten minutes. You need to just tell us. Just get it over with."

Cisco took a deep breath, but no words came out.

"Just say it, Cisco," Iris said in a defeated, broken voice, "Barry's dead, isn't he?"

Finally, Cisco opened the door. Iris's face was tearstained and blotchy from crying. Clearly, the others had all been assuming the same thing.

"No," Cisco said, staring at her in shock, "Barry's not dead. Barry's fine… _physically_ , at least."

Iris sighed in relief, clutching her chest.

"Thank God," she breathed, wiping a tear from her face, "You can't do that to us, Cisco! We all were assuming the worst!"

"I'm sorry," Cisco whispered, "I just didn't know how to tell everyone…"

"Tell us what?" Iris asked nervously.

Cisco let out a heavy sigh and wiped his eyes.

"I lied," he said quietly, "The other day, when I vibed Barry, I lied to you and Henry about what I saw."

"What do you mean?" Iris asked, her eyes going wide, "What did you see?"

"I told you guys that Barry had been talking to a woman but that I couldn't hear what he was saying," Cisco explained quietly, "I lied. I _did_ hear what he was saying. He…he was saying that he was done, that he was giving up. He seemed so broken, Iris, and I didn't know why…until now, until I had this last vibe."

"What did you see this time?" Iris asked tearfully.

Cisco took in a shaky breath.

"Lucy's dead," he said quietly, "She died last night…in Barry's arms."

"Oh, my God," Iris choked, pressing her hand to her lips as fresh tears spilled over.

"I don't even know how to tell Thomas and Jane," Cisco whispered, "That's why I left the room. I…I can't tell them. And now they're out there, waiting for me to tell them what I saw, and I…I _can't_. I can't tell a couple of parents that their five-year-old daughter just died."

"You don't have to do this alone," Iris said firmly, "We can tell them together, Cisco."

"Thank you," Cisco whispered, wiping his face.

"And don't worry," Iris said surely, "Barry's strong. He'll get through this."

Cisco shook his head sadly.

"You didn't see it, Iris," he said doubtfully, "You…you didn't see Barry's face. It was… _horrible_. Barry, he's…he's never going to come back from this."

* * *

Barry's hands shook as he wiped the sweat from his face. His back ached horribly, and his hands were blistered, but he didn't care. The others had offered to help him, but he had insisted that he needed to do this alone. After he had finished piling on the top layer of dirt, Barry found a large stone and placed it on top of the fresh soil.

Lucy deserved so much better than this. She deserved to have a real funeral, a real burial, with her parents present. Barry had been trying hard not to think about them and the promise he had made to them. He had promised he would keep Lucy safe, and he had failed. Barry felt sick to his stomach as he looked at the little girl's grave. She didn't even have a proper headstone.

It was better than the alternative, though. Barry's stomach churned at the thought of Lucy's body being carelessly loaded into the back of an MRA truck with the rest of the dead.

He had buried her by the lake, next to the glistening water and under a large willow tree. Lucy would have loved the lake. She would have loved to play in the water and help them fish. A lump formed in Barry's throat as he realized that this had been where she was trying to go the night she died. She had been trying to go to the lake with them.

No tears fell, though. Barry hadn't cried since last night. He didn't think he _could_ cry right now. He couldn't let himself feel this pain. A lump formed in his throat, however, every time he looked at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that Lucy had made for him. It was all he would really have left of her. He didn't have any pictures or anything else to remember her by.

Barry felt like he should say something, but he didn't know what to say.

"I'm so sorry," he choked, placing a hand on the stone, "I'm so sorry, Lucy. I didn't protect you."

The lump in Barry's throat grew more painful as tears sprang to his eyes. He didn't let them fall, though. He pushed his pain back down, deep within him, where he couldn't feel it. It was too raw, too fresh. He wasn't ready to face his grief yet. Instead, he allowed himself to go numb again as he stood up and looked down at the grave.

"I love you, Lucy."

* * *

"Not my little girl, no!" Jane sobbed into Caitlin's shoulder, "This can't be happening! This isn't real!"

"Shhh," Caitlin soothed rubbing the other woman's arm, "It's okay, just breathe."

Everyone in the room stared at Cisco in shock and silent horror. No one knew what to say. All that could be heard were Jane's quiet sobs as the doctor consoled her. Finally, Thomas, Lucy's father, broke the silence.

"How did she die?" he asked quietly, his voice too calm, too numb with shock.

Cisco gave him an uneasy look, not answering his question.

"Don't," Jane sobbed, "Don't! I don't want to know!"

"Cisco!" Thomas shouted, causing everyone to jump, "How did Lucy die?!"

Cisco swallowed past the lump in his throat, sucking in a shaky breath. Iris rubbed his shoulder in support, tears already streaming down her face.

"She was shot," Cisco whispered, "She…I don't know how, but she was shot."

"Oh, God," Jane sobbed horribly, her tears seeping into Caitlin's blouse.

Thomas didn't react. His face remained hard and emotionless, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Did she die alone?" he asked quietly then.

He sounded like he was trying hard to control the shakiness in his voice.

"No," Cisco answered quickly, "Barry was there for her. He…held her…sang to her. He stayed with her the whole time."

Iris had to press her hand to her mouth to stop the sob that was threatening to escape her as she imagined what that must have been like for Barry. Cisco was right. Barry would never come back from this.

Thomas didn't say anything. He stared at Cisco but didn't seem to be seeing him.

"Tom," Jane sobbed, reaching out to touch his arm, "Thomas."

"I'm going to kill them," Thomas said in a deadly quiet voice, "I'm going to kill every last one of them."

"Thomas," Jane cried, "Please!"

She hugged him then, and Thomas slowly wrapped his arms shakily around his wife, his eyes still far away.

"Come with me," Henry said suddenly, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, "Come on. I'll get you some tea."

Henry led the young couple from the room then. He was probably the most experienced when it came to consoling people who had lost loved ones. Caitlin was a doctor, too, but she hadn't practiced much medicine with patients other than Barry, and even though she had experience with her own grief, she didn't have the most experience with grief _support_.

"Cisco," Joe said seriously then, "Is Barry okay?"

Cisco shook his head.

"I don't know," he said quietly, "I haven't vibed him since…"

Joe nodded, tears filling his eyes.

"We need to do something," Caitlin said bitterly, "We need to take down the MRA _now_ , before more people die."

"I don't know what to do at this point," Joe said brokenly, "I feel like we haven't accomplished _anything_. They're too powerful. We can't take them down by force. We don't have enough people."

"So we'll get more people," Iris said firmly, "We'll do more to spread our message."

"We _have_ been spreading our message," Joe said hopelessly, "And we've gotten some people to sway to our side, but that hasn't really accomplished anything. I'm sorry, baby girl, but one anonymous blog online isn't enough to get enough people to turn on Price. We need more."

"I have an idea," Cisco said quietly, a serious look on his face, "It's…it's something I've been thinking about for a while now."

"What?" Felicity asked seriously.

Cisco sighed.

"Telling people about what's going on isn't going to be enough," he said, "Those are just words. What we really need is to _show_ them what's really happening inside that wall."

"Well, it's not like we can just install camera's inside the meta slums," Joe said realistically, "We don't have any way to show everyone the truth."

"Yes we do," Cisco said quietly, "Me."

The others all stared at him.

"What do you mean?" Oliver finally asked.

"My vibes," Cisco explained, "I…I think I've found a way to share the images I see."

They all stared at him.

"How is that even _possible_?" Iris asked incredulously.

"I've been tampering with my vibing goggles," Cisco explained, "I found a way to digitalize my vibes using the goggles."

Everyone's eyes widened.

"Cisco," Oliver said seriously, "Are you saying you can turn your visions into _videos_?!"

"They're called vibes," Cisco corrected, "And yeah, I think I can."

"Can you…can you revibe things you've already vibed before?" Caitlin asked quietly.

Cisco nodded.

"My goggles store all of my vibes," he confirmed, "It will take some work to sync them and digitalize them, but…I think I can do it."

"That would be huge," Oliver said seriously to everyone, "Sharing Cisco's vibes with the public might be exactly what we need to get the upper hand. It will open people's eyes."

"You're right," Joe agreed, "A blog can be fake. A lot of people think it's all just rumors and conspiracy theories. This would be solid proof that the horrors going on in the meta slums are true."

"And maybe then people won't believe those stupid MRA commercials anymore," Iris said bitterly.

There had been countless commercials broadcasted by the MRA depicting the metazone to be this nice, happy little community for contaminated metahumans, but they knew better. All the footage they showed of children going to school and the zone having happy little community picnics was all contrived. Metahumans were having no picnic in there. In fact, they were standing in food lines and digging through dumpsters so they wouldn't starve to death.

And Cisco's vibes would show that.

* * *

"He's been in there all day," Elizabeth sighed, "Someone else should give it a try now. I can't get him to talk."

"I'll do it," Adam said softly.

They all looked at him in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Kathy shrugged, "I just wasn't expecting that."

Adam sighed.

"He and I really need to talk," he said softly, and without explaining any further, he opened the door to the bedroom.

They usually didn't use the bedroom for anything. They had put some of their stuff in it, but most of them hardly ever went in there. It was mostly just where Barry went to work on his broken radio when he had time. Barry wasn't working on the radio now, though. He was sitting on the floor, in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. Adam noticed all the bottle caps scattered all over the floor, and his stomach clenched when he saw the game board that had been thrown across the room. It was then that he realized that they were supposed to be game pieces.

"Barry?" Adam said, stepping closer to the man on the floor.

Barry didn't look up. He just stared at the makeshift checker pieces scattered on the floor in front of him.

"I was going to teach her checkers," he said numbly, his voice little more than a broken whisper, "She had been begging me to teach her, and I…I had finally gotten the pieces together."

Barry sucked in a breath and ran a hand over his face.

"I was too busy," he said bitterly, "I never taught her."

"Barry," Adam said sadly, moving to sit on the floor next to him.

"I know it's such a stupid thing to be upset over," Barry said brokenly, "It's so stupid, but it keeps running through my head for some reason. I never got to teach her checkers. How stupid is that? That of all things, _that's_ what's running through my mind right now?! A stupid _board game_."

Barry looked up at him then and gave him a shocked look, as if he only just realized he was there.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly, "You were the last person I expected to want to be by me right now.”

Adam sighed.

"I…I don't know," he said honestly, "I just felt like I should talk to you."

Barry looked at the floor again.

"You should _hate_ me," he said bitterly, "You know now that I'm the Flash, that I'm a _coward_."

"I didn't know you were the Flash when I said that," Adam said quietly, "If I had, I never would have called the Flash a coward. I would never call you a coward, Barry. You're one of the bravest people I've ever met. You're a hero."

A small humorless laugh escaped Barry's lips.

"Hero," he huffed, "Right."

"You tried, Barry," Adam said sadly, "You did everything you could to save her, to keep her safe."

"Yeah, but I failed," Barry said bitterly, "Like always, I failed."

"This isn't your fault, Barry," Adam said quietly, "None of this has ever been the Flash's fault. It's…it's mine."

Barry looked up at him then, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

Adam sucked in a shaky breath.

"I…I supported Price," he whispered, the words tasting sour on his tongue, "In…in the beginning, before I found out I was a metahuman. I supported him."

Barry's eyes widened as he stared at him.

"You…?"

"I voted for him for his nominations during the pre-election," Adam admitted quietly, unable to look Barry in the eye, "I believed in everything he said. I went to his campaign speeches, _cheered_ for him. I agreed with him that metahumans needed to be dealt with in some way. I supported his cause. And then…a month later, that scanner flashed red and I found out I was…contaminated."

"Adam," Barry said in anguish, looking down at the floor again.

"If anything, _you_ should hate _me_ ," Adam said painfully, "It's people like me who are the most responsible for us being here. I was one of the many people who helped Price get to where he is today. I made this happen to us, not you, not the Flash. Me. It's taken me a long time to admit that this is partially my fault. It was something I didn't want to accept. It was easier to blame other people for it. The Flash. Type one metahumans. But deep down, I've known all along that this is my own fault. So, don't hate yourself, Barry. Hate me."

Barry looked up at him with watery eyes, a million different emotions dancing behind them. Adam's hands clenched into fists as he waited with bated breath for Barry to start shouting at him. He wouldn't have even been surprised if Barry hit him. Barry didn't do either of those things, though. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle.

"I…" he whispered, "I don't hate you, Adam."

* * *


	24. Join the Resistance

* * *

**Join the Resistance**

* * *

“Cisco, this is amazing!” Caitlin said as they all looked over the footage he had digitalized from his vibes, “This is exactly what we need!”

“I’m still processing some of it,” Cisco said, “But I should have it all downloaded soon.”

The images on the screen were painful to see. Most of them were short, but their contents were clear and significant. Cisco had been vibing more than just Barry and the people in his unit; he had been vibing the loved ones of _everyone_ in the Resistance and some who weren’t even in it and had nothing to do with it. The rest of the team was somewhat surprised by just how many vibes Cisco had of the metazone, how much he had been keeping to himself.

“Do you have the ones of Barry?” Iris asked quietly as they watched the violent images on the screen.

It was so much worse actually _seeing_ it, not just hearing about it. People trampling each other and _killing_ each other over food scraps. MRA officers beating and shooting people. There had been more than a few deaths in the videos, and it was hard to believe they were actually _real_.

“I do,” Cisco whispered, “I don’t know if you really want to see them, though. They’re hard to watch.”

“I want to see them,” Joe said softly, “I _need_ to.”

Cisco nodded and took a deep breath before clicking on a file, one that contained just the vibes of Barry.

They all felt sick to their stomachs as they watched the videos, each one worse than the last. Barry digging through a dumpster for food scraps; watching another man get shot in front of him as he stood in a food line; blood splattering over him as he stood in a doorway, eyes wide with horror; running for his life over the sounds of gunfire.

Playing Barbies with a little blonde girl.

When they got to the video of Lucy’s death, Cisco hesitated before clicking on it. Most of them were already crying by this point, but it was this video that truly broke them, but not nearly as much as the event had clearly broken Barry.

_“We made it. It’s okay, Luce. We made it. Everything’s going to be okay now.”_

Iris broke out into sobs when Barry started to sing to Lucy, cradling her in his arms. The love in his eyes was just as visible as the devastation in them. He had truly _loved_ the little girl with all his heart, and that was so clear by the look on Barry’s face that even Oliver teared up a bit as they watched the video.

“What now?” Joe asked quietly after the video ended, “How are we going to do this? What videos are we going to share with the public?”

“ _All_ of them,” Oliver said darkly, “We’re going to share them _all_.”

 “What about Thomas and Jane?” Joe asked quietly, “I doubt they’ll want us broadcasting footage of their daughter’s death to the public. No parent would.”

“Actually,” a man’s voice said from the doorway, and they all looked over to see the two parents standing there, “That’s _exactly_ what we want.”

They all stared at them in shock.

“It is?” Iris asked in confusion.

Thomas nodded as the two of them approached the group.

“I _want_ the public to know,” Thomas darkly, “I want everyone to know what those monsters did to my little girl.”

They all stared at him, taking in the pure hatred in his eyes as he spoke.

“We just…” Jane said tearfully, “We just want Lucy’s death to _mean_ something. If showing it can help end this whole thing, then at least her death wouldn’t have been for nothing. We want to help the other metahumans who are still alive. We…we want to help _Barry_ …for everything he did for her.”

Iris wiped a few tears from her eyes before quickly crossing the room, wrapping her arms around the other woman.

“Thank you,” she choked, “ _Thank you_.”

They broke apart, and Jane gave her a watery smile.

“We’re going to take down the MRA,” she said surely, her voice laced with bitterness, “We’re going to _win_.”

* * *

It didn’t feel like four days. How could four days have passed already when it still felt as if it had just happened?

The last four days had passed in a blur for Barry. The first day, he had spent by the lake, standing over a fresh pile of dirt. The next day, he had sat on the floor in the bedroom, staring at bottlecaps. The third day, he had gone out on his own, searching for firewood for the cold that was now starting to set in for fall. And now, on the fourth day, here he was, standing in the living room, staring at the wall, at the child-like stick figures that were drawn on it in marker.

The stick figures that looked remarkably like a tall man and a little girl, holding hands.

He could still see where the blood had been on the wall, from that night when the man had died on their doorstep. The blood had tainted the pictures, the same way this place had tainted Lucy’s innocent, how it had robbed Barry of his optimism, his light.

“Barry,” a soft voice said.

It took him a moment to react to the sound. His mind was in a fog, and everything lately had just felt like one long dream. Life didn’t feel real anymore. When Barry finally turned his head to look at the person who had spoken, Kathy’s face swam into view. He felt like he was processing everything in slow motion as he looked down at her outstretched hand, which contained a can of food.

His portions for the day.

“Thank you,” Barry muttered, taking the can from her.

It was already open, half of its contents gone. Half a can of diced tomatoes. That was his meal for the day.

“We’re running out,” Kathy whispered, “There are only three cans left in the cellar.”

Barry didn’t say anything. He just looked back at the wall again.

“Barry, what are we going to do?” she asked fearfully, “The food dispersal isn’t going to be enough now.”

Barry sucked in a painful breath.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“We need to _do_ something,” Kathy said desperately, “I know you’re grieving right now, but we need you here with us. We need you to help us figure out what to do.”

“I don’t know _everything_!” Barry snapped, looking at her again with narrowed eyes, “I’m just a _person_ , Kathy! I don’t have all the answers to everything! You all shouldn’t rely on me so much!”

Kathy shrank a bit at having him snap at her so unexpectedly. She gave him a sad look then.

“Please don’t give up, Barry,” she whispered, “Don’t do this. Don’t stop trying.”

Barry didn’t answer her. He looked back at the wall again, tears forming in his eyes.

“Barry,” she said gently, “You’re….you’re not the one who died.”

That caused Barry’s head to snap back at her again. He glared viciously at her, and the sight alone made her blood run cold.

“ _You fell asleep_ ,” he whispered, “You were supposed to be watching her.”

Kathy sucked in a breath, her wide eyes filling with tears.

“Barry,” she choked, “I’m…I’m _so sorry_.”

Barry’s mouth was a thin line as his tears spilled over, etching long lines down his face. He then suddenly let out a heavy breath, his shoulders hunching as all the energy, all the _anger_ , left him at once.

“I know you are,” he whispered.

Kathy opened her mouth to say something, but she faltered when they both suddenly heard a loud pounding on the door. She and Barry both looked at each other in fear for a moment before Barry quickly made his way over to the door.

“Who is it?!” he demanded harshly.

“Barry,” a familiar voice shouted, “It’s me! It’s Miguel!”

Barry wrenched the door open, and his neighbor’s panicked face came into view.

Miguel spoke before Barry could even say anything.

“It’s time!” he said urgently, “The baby, it’s coming! Josie’s water just broke!”

Barry felt all the blood drain from his face. He had forgotten entirely about the pregnant woman next door. She wasn’t due for three more weeks. This was happening so much sooner than he thought it would be.

“Barry!” Miguel shouted when Barry didn’t say anything, “Come on! We need your help!”

That spurred Barry to move at least, and he followed Miguel out the house. His mind was elsewhere, though, as they rushed to the neighboring house.

 _They needed his help_.

Barry didn’t know if he was even capable of helping _anyone_ anymore. He wasn’t the right person to do this. He wasn’t a doctor. He wasn’t his father. Or Caitlin.

He wasn’t the Flash.

When they made it into the house, Barry froze in the doorway. The little boy he had met a week ago was standing in the living room. Peter, was his name. He was older than Lucy had been, but it didn’t stop Barry from freezing at the sight of the young child.

“Barry!” Miguel yelled, turning back to look at him just standing in the doorway, “Come on! She’s in here!”

Barry looked away from the little boy and followed Miguel down a hallway, which led to the bedroom. The house had the exact same layout as his own unit’s. They all must have been living in a Hooverville. All these cookie cutter homes had the exact same layout. They were probably all built at once, right after world war II.

These were the kind of stupid things running through Barry’s head as they made their way to the bedroom. His brain just didn’t feel like it was all there, like it wouldn’t let him process the situation he was now in and instead, had him thinking about anything else. When they entered the bedroom, Barry soon came face to face with two other people, a man and the pregnant woman.

Josie was lying on the floor, pillows propped behind her back while the other man knelt down next to her, holding her hand and running his fingers through her hair to soothe her. The pregnant woman was clearly panicking, her body covered in sweat, tears streaming down her face.

“It’s too soon!” she sobbed, “It’s not time yet! It’s too soon!”

For some strange reason, the woman’s panic helped Barry get past his own. Upon hearing her anguished cries, Barry suddenly snapped out of his trance and moved into action.

“How far apart are the contractions?” he asked urgently, moving quickly to kneel by the scared woman.

The two other men both looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” the one of them said unsurely.

Barry took a deep breath and looked at Josie next.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “Everything’s going to be alright. Just breathe.”

Josie looked at him with tearful eyes.

“Are you Barry?” she asked weakly.

Barry nodded.

“I’m here to help, okay?” he said calmly, “Just try to relax.”

The pregnant woman nodded then.

“Okay,” she gasped, and Barry was shocked to see the level of trust she had in her eyes.

She didn’t even know him, but she looked at him like she trusted him with her life. Barry looked away from Josie’s face to look at the other two in the room.

“Grab me more blankets,” he said urgently, “Or towels. Whatever you have!”

Miguel nodded and rushed out of the room. Barry looked at the other man then.

“Are you the father?” he asked.

The man shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I barely know her.”

Barry nodded and then returned his attention to Josie.

“Josie,” he said awkwardly, “I’m going to have to…”

“Go ahead!” she said urgently.

Barry nodded and grabbed a blanket to cover Josie’s legs before helping her remove her jeans. He kept the blanket over her for privacy, but the woman didn’t seem to care too much about that at the moment. She was too preoccupied with the impending birth.

“Should I…?” the other man said awkwardly, “Should I leave?”

“No,” Barry said firmly, “Someone needs to be here to comfort and encourage her. I won’t be able to do both.”

“I can help,” a woman’s voice said from the doorway.

Barry looked over to see Kathy standing there, a nervous look on her face. She moved over to kneel down next to Josie’s head, taking her hand in place of the other man in the room.

“Thank God,” he breathed before standing up off the floor.

“I need you to grab something for me,” Barry said urgently before the other man could leave, “I need you to run over to our house. I have some zip ties in a kitchen drawer there. The third drawer from the left. Grab them!”

The other man nodded and didn’t ask any questions as he left to go fetch what Barry had requested.

“Okay, Josie,” he said, “I’m…I’m going to have to take a look now.”

Josie nodded, and Barry took a deep breath before lifting up the blanket to see. The baby wasn’t crowning yet, so he at least knew they had _some_ time yet before it came. Barry knew he had to check and see how dilated the woman was, but he really didn’t know how to do that in this situation. Usually a measuring device of some sort was used for that, and he didn’t have any kind of traction forceps to look anyways.

“I don’t know how close you are,” Barry explained to Josie as calmly as he could, “We’ll have to go off the contractions. Let me know as soon as you feel the next one, alright? And let me know right away if you feel the urge to push.”

Josie nodded, and Barry was pleased to see that her breathing was less panicked and strained. Even if he didn’t know what he was doing, at least his presence seemed to be a comfort to the scared woman.

It wasn’t long before Josie suddenly let out a strained scream. She didn’t need to tell him that she was having a contraction. It was obvious. Barry looked at his watch and took note of the time.

“You’re doing good, Josie,” Barry assured her soothingly when the contraction subsided, “Just catch your breath now. Everything’s still okay.”

Josie gave him a strained smile and focused on her breathing then. The next contraction came quickly, though, way sooner than Barry was expecting it to.

“The contractions are less than two minutes apart,” Barry said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

This was happening way too fast for him, but Barry didn’t let his panic show or get the best of him as he adjusted to the situation. He quickly took his watch off and handed it to Kathy to hold onto. He knew this was going to be messy. Childbirth really wasn’t like how it was in the movies. There was usually a lot of fluid and messiness involved in it. Barry wished he at least had gloves, but he would just have to get over it. This was life and death here. Who cared if his hands got dirty?

“I feel like I have to push,” Josie gasped.

“Okay,” Barry said quickly, “It’s okay. If you have to push, then go ahead. Whenever you’re ready.”

Josie nodded and then started to push.

Barry took a deep breath when the top of the baby’s head came into view. He had never seen a birth before, and just the sight of it was already making him feel queasy. Barry shook it off, though, and tried to just focus on what he needed to do next. He gently placed his fingers on the baby’s head, pressing just enough to prevent the baby from coming out too fast. Josie screamed as she gave one long push, and the baby’s head came out fully.

“Good, Josie,” Barry praised, an encouraging smile on his face, “You’re doing good. Just take a second to catch your breath.”

Barry was relieved to see that the baby’s head was facing downwards, in the preferable birthing position.

“Don’t push again yet,” Barry instructed the woman calmly, “I have to check the neck.”

Josie nodded and clutched Kathy’s hand as Barry then moved to check the baby. His blood ran cold.

The cord was wrapped around the neck.

“I feel like I have to push again,” Josie gasped.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Barry said urgently, “Josie, _don’t_ push yet. Just wait.”

“Why?” she asked fearfully, “What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing,” he lied, “Everything’s fine. I just need you to wait for a moment before you push again. Everything’s going to be okay.”

_It’s okay, Luce. We made it. Everything’s going to be okay._

Barry could hear blood rushing in his ears as he tried to hook a finger under the cord in an attempt to maneuver it over the baby’s head. He could do this. He could save this baby. He could do this. He wouldn’t let the child die.

The cord wouldn’t budge, though. He couldn’t remove it from the baby’s neck.

“Barry, you’re scaring me,” Josie cried.

Barry looked up and saw that she was watching his face, and she had clearly seen the worry on it.

“I need to cut the cord now,” he said, telling her the truth, “I need to do it before you push again. It’s wrapped around the baby’s neck.”

“Oh, my God!” Josie sobbed.

“It’s okay,” Barry assured her quickly, even though panicked tears were filling his eyes, “I’ve got this, Josie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I trust you,” Josie choked, wiping the tears from her face, “I trust you, Barry.”

 _You shouldn’t_.

“I need those zip ties,” he said urgently.

Someone then handed them to him, surprising him. He hadn’t noticed the other man return. He had been too focused on everything else. Barry didn’t dwell on it, though, as he quickly moved to wrap the zip ties around the cord, tightening it in two places. Surgical clamps would have worked better, but they obviously didn’t have those on hand.

“Do we have a scissors?” he asked the other man, “A knife? Anything?!”

The other man nodded and handed him a scissors. Barry waited a good minute or two before proceeding, allowing time for the zip ties to stop the blood flow so there wouldn’t be too much bleeding after he made the cut. After waiting for a few minutes, Barry took a deep breath and cut the cord, right between the two zip ties.

“Okay, Josie,” Barry said in relief, as the cord was freed from the baby’s neck, “You can push now.”

Josie didn’t need telling twice. With a loud scream, she gave one more big push, and the baby finally came the rest of the way out.

“That’s it,” Barry said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips, “You did it, Josie! It’s a boy!”

The other woman let out a small laugh of relief as well, while Barry quickly set to wiping the baby’s face, making sure his airway was clear and there was no fluid in his mouth or nose. Tears sprang to Barry’s eyes when the baby uttered his first cries. Now that it was mostly over, he was able to marvel at the new life he was holding in his hands, and his heart swelled at the sight.

Barry was quick to wrap the baby boy in blankets, knowing now that the most important thing to do would be keeping him warm. He handed the baby to Josie, who burst into tears as she held her son for the first time. The sheer beauty of the moment caused Barry’s own tears to spill over, sliding down his face.

For the first time in four days, he didn’t feel empty.

* * *

Everyone sat in Henry’s living room, gathered around the TV screen, waiting for the moment when their message would finally be broadcasted for everyone to see. It was set to play at five pm.

“What channel is it going to be on?” Caitlin asked Cisco, grabbing the remote.

Cisco gave her a serious look.

“ _All_ of them.”

Caitlin nodded and looked back at the TV.

“Good,” she whispered.

“Will the whole city see it?” Joe asked seriously.

“The whole _country_ will see it,” Felicity answered smugly.

It was one minute to five, and they all waited anxiously for the moment when their message would play. The evening news was currently on, and it had just gone to a commercial break. Ironically, there was a campaign ad for Clinton Price playing at the moment, and they all felt somewhat smug when it suddenly cut out. Felicity had easily managed to override the broadcast so they could broadcast their own message instead.

Their stomachs all clenched when Barry’s voice suddenly sounded from the TV.

_C-close y-your eyes, it’s okay It’s j-just the end, of a long, long d-day_

Images of children standing in food lines, bathing in creaks, and begging strangers for food occupied the screen, all while Barry’s voice continued to sing.

_Go to s-sleep, Everything’s alright, And I’ll s-sing….a lullaby_

Men and women of all ages were fighting and clawing at each other, wrestling with each other to get their hands on small scraps of food.

_It’s t-time for you, to get some r-rest, But you know who, I l-love the b-best_

A man grabbed a woman by the hair and yanked her away from a window she had been trying to climb through. Her head hit the ground with a smack. An old man was then shown, sprawled on the ground, screaming in agony as he was slowly trampled to death.

_So c-come on, darling, Breathe a s-sigh, And I’ll s-sing a lullaby_

An MRA officer struck a man in the face. The man fell to his hands and knees, but the officer continued on, kicking and punching the man’s face repeatedly until his nose was smashed in and his face was no longer recognizable. Only then did he finally unload a bullet into the man’s head.

_G-goodnight…goodnight, Let the m-moon, Pour d-down his light_

A young man ran through the dark, sheer terror on his face as he ran for his life, his arms bleeding profusely as gunshots continued going off in the night.

_Goodnight…goodnight, ‘Til the m-morning comes_

_“C-close your eyes, and d-drift away It’s j-just the end, Of a long, long day_

The same young man was crouched on the floor, playing dolls with a young, blonde girl, wide smiles on both of their faces. The little girl let out a squeal of delighted laughter.

_But anytime, The w-world’s not r-right, You c-can sing this lullaby_

The footage finally shifted to the same pair, curled up on the floor in the same exact place, this scene now very different. The young man was singing to her, clutching the little girl tightly while she bled out in his arms. Only after she breathed her last breath, did the man finish the song.

_Any t-time, The w-world’s not right, You can s-sing this lullaby_

When the song ended and the screen went dark, words appeared on the screen.

_In Memory of Lucy Evans_

_An innocent HUMAN soul_

The flash symbol then occupied the screen, and the video ended with three simple words:

 

Join the Resistance

* * *

**Disclaimer: I know the video was a little Mockingjay—not going to pretend like that’s not where I got the inspiration from! It’s not as good as “The Hanging Tree,” but I hope it didn’t disappoint.**

**Song lyrics credit goes to Jimmy Scott.**

* * *


	25. Somewhere Only We Know

**Song in this chapter: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane—in case someone wants to listen to it. It isn’t necessary, though.**

* * *

**Somewhere Only We Know**

* * *

Headlines exploded after the video was broadcasted, some headlines good, some, not so good. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was that the message was out there now.

_ Nationwide Network Hack Has Thousands Outraged _

_ Clinton Price Assures Public That Hacker Videos are Fabricated _

_ The Resistance: Heroic Movement or Terrorist Organization? _

_ Parents of Lucy Evans Decline Press Conference _

_ MRA Calls in Backup For Renewed Protest Movements _

_ Entire Country Wondering: Who is the Singing Man? _

_ Price Mayoral Election Polls Plummet _

“It’s working,” Iris said happily, “People are starting to turn on Price.”

“After seeing those last poll numbers, I think you’re right,” Henry agreed happily.

“It’s a start,” Oliver said seriously, “Revealing the truth to the public was the first step. It was the first big thing we’ve actually managed to accomplish. Let’s just hope it’s enough to prevent Price from winning the election two days from now. Only then can we know if we have the upper hand now or not. In the meantime, we need to be ready for when the media storm comes after us.”

“What?” Caitlin asked, “What do you mean?”

“It’s only a matter of time before people figure out who the ‘singing man’ is,” Oliver said seriously, “And when they do, the media is going to go after the Wests for more information about Barry.”

“The MRA is going to know who we are,” Joe said quietly.

“So what?” Iris asked defiantly, “What can they possibly do? We’re human, and technically, we haven’t even done anything illegal. This is still America, and we still have freedom of speech.”

“Yeah, but we tried to assassinate Price,” Cisco pointed out.

“No,” Oliver said, “No, the _Green Arrow_ did. People don’t need to know the Resistance had anything to do with that.”

“What about Barry?” Henry asked worriedly, “This is going to draw attention to him now.”

“I doubt the MRA is going to care too much about going after one single metahuman,” Cisco said, “Besides, if they decided to…to kill Barry because of this, they have to know that people would probably find out about it, and it would only make things worse for them. If anything, they _can’t_ do anything to Barry now. They don’t want to make him a martyr.”

“Cisco’s right,” Oliver said, “Barry should be safe for now. They wouldn’t dare go after him now.”

* * *

He had already removed the internal antenna of the radio and inspected it for damage, but he had completely forgotten about removing the internal base of the _external_ antenna. Here Barry had been taking this entire radio apart, looking for the most complicated problems with it, while he had failed to check the damn _antenna_.

Barry was so caught up in what he was doing, he hadn’t heard the bedroom door open.

“You should really take a break from that,” Elizabeth’s voice came from behind him.

Barry glanced at her and then turned back to the radio.

“I’d like to accomplish _something_ today,” he said bitterly.

She sighed and crossed the room to stand next to where he was sitting on the floor with his radio.

“Barry, we’re _all_ upset about this morning,” she said quietly, “Nobody blames you. We know you tried your best. There will be another food dispersal tomorrow.”

“We’re _out_ of food, Elizabeth,” Barry said seriously, turning to look at her, “There’s nothing left. We can’t afford to go _any_ days without getting our dispersal portions now. I…I ran there as fast as I could to get in line, but I didn’t make the cut off _again_. I couldn’t get there fast enough.”

“I can’t even imagine how frustrating that must be for you,” she said, moving to sit next to him on the floor where he was working, “Especially, considering…”

“Considering how I used to be able to run at mach three?” he finished for her.

“You were _that fast_?!” she asked incredulously.

Barry nodded, but he didn’t smile. Instead he went back to tampering with the radio, a hard look on his face.

“Barry,” Elizabeth said slowly, watching him work, “You really should leave this room.”

“And what?” he asked bitterly, “I can’t go fishing because the water has gotten too cold and the fish shifted down to the bottom of the lake. I can’t go search for supplies because there’s nothing left to find, and it would burn more calories than it’s worth. I can’t do _anything_ , but I _can_ do this.”

“You need a break from this,” Elizabeth said, watching his hands as he took apart the radio’s antenna, “Why don’t we both go next door and see the baby?”

“I don’t want to see the baby,” Barry whispered.

“Why not?” Elizabeth asked gently, “It’s been three days, and you’ve refused to go see him. Josie keeps asking where you’ve been. She _named_ him after you, Barry! Why won’t you go see him?”

“Why do you think?” Barry whispered, still not looking at her.

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before she finally spoke in a soft voice.

“You don’t want to get attached,” she realized.

Barry didn’t say anything, his expression blank as he continued to work on the radio.

“Barry,” she said in a strained voice, “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep closing yourself off to everyone around you.”

“It’s easier than losing people,” Barry countered, “You don’t understand, Liz. You think you know me, but you don’t know anything about me. I’ve lost more than my fair share of people in my life, and I can’t bear to lose any more. It’s _easier_ to just not get attached in the first place.”

“Bar,” she said sadly, “I know that Lucy’s death has changed you. It’s made you…harder. But you can’t just push people away so they can’t get close to you. You’re just isolating yourself.”

Barry didn’t look up at her. He looked down at his hands as he finished reattaching the external antenna of the radio. Both of their eyes widened when the radio suddenly flickered to life.

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth breathed when she heard the static-like sound of the radio turning on.

“I did it,” Barry said in disbelief.

A surprised laugh escaped his lips and his face broke out in a grin. Elizabeth grinned back at him as Barry quickly turned the dial, tuning the station. For the first time in over a month, they heard music.

_Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on._

“I love this song,” Elizabeth choked, tears of happiness in her eyes.

_So tell me when, you’re going to let me in I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

Barry suddenly felt Elizabeth tug on his arm, pulling him to his feet. He looked unsurely at her for a moment but then gave her a small smile when she grabbed his arms and made him dance with her.

_I came across a fallen tree I felt the branches of it looking at me Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?_

Barry had never been much of a dancer, but he didn’t have to think about it much when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and the two of them swayed.

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when, you’re going to let me in I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

Tears formed in both their eyes as they danced, leaving the rest of the world behind for a moment. For just a moment, they could forget about everything else.

_And if you have a minute why don’t we go Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

Elizabeth laughed when Barry spun her in a circle, and he couldn’t help it. He laughed, too.

_This could be the end of everything So why don’t we go somewhere only we know?_

When Elizabeth spun out of the circle and clutched his arms again, they paused, their faces only inches apart. The smiles slid from their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes, communicating everything that had gone unsaid between them. Barry’s heart sped up when Elizabeth moved closer to him.

He released her hands then.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered when she looked at him in confusion, “I’m sorry. I…can’t.”

Tears swam in her eyes as she looked at him. Although the hurt was evident on her face, there was something else that was more prominent. Understanding.

“I know,” she choked.

They both turned away from each other and looked at the radio when the song suddenly cut out.

 _“We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news,_ ” a woman reporter’s voice said urgently, “ _Election ballots have all been tallied for the Central City mayoral election that has now been getting nationwide attention.”_

Barry quickly dropped to his knees in front of the radio and turned the volume up.

_“It has just been announced that Clinton Price is now the new mayor of Central City.”_

“No,” Barry choked, and he felt Elizabeth rest her hand on his shoulder.

_“The election results have sparked outrage and protests throughout the entire state of Ohio. Many are shocked by Price’s victory, considering the recent drop in poll numbers the mayoral candidate had after the disturbing message that was broadcasted by the Lucy Resistance.”_

Barry’s heart skipped a beat, and Elizabeth’s hand on his shoulder tightened.

“Did she just say the ‘Lucy Resistance?’” she asked quietly.

_“The parents of Lucy Evans still refuse to give a comment to the media, even after Price’s election. On the same note, the West family has also declined a press conference after it has come out that the man in the video is none other than their adopted family member, Barry Allen. Not much is known about Allen, except that he is a former CSI for the Central City Police Department. He is also the son of Dr. Henry Paul Allen, whose case was given nationwide coverage in 2000 when he was convicted for the murder of his wife and Barry’s mother, Nora Allen, and again in 2015 when he was exonerated after the real killer confessed to the murder. Barry Allen was also a known owner of STAR Laboratories, which is now in the possession of his adoptive father, Joseph West. Little else is known about Allen or what his connection is to the Lucy Resistance. More will be revealed as new information comes to light.”_

Barry stared at the radio in shock when the report ended, trying to process everything he had just heard.

“They’re watching,” he muttered to himself.

Of course.

He should have known Cisco would be watching him. Of course they’d want to keep an eye on him and make sure he was okay. From the sounds of it, they were sharing everything they were seeing with the rest of the city, letting people know what was really happening in here. Barry’s heart clenched when he realized that that meant Lucy’s parents knew. They knew he had failed.

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, kneeling down next to Barry, “Who’s watching?”

“Cisco,” Barry answered, “He’s a friend of mine. He gets visions. I should have known he’d be watching me.”

“He’s a metahuman?”

Barry nodded.

“He was smart enough to get out of the city in time, well before this all escalated.”

“He’s lucky,” Elizabeth muttered, and then she gave Barry a strange, thoughtful look.

“What?” he asked.

“You never told me you were Henry Allen’s son,” she said quietly.

Barry gave her an uneasy look.

“Does it change anything?” he whispered.

She shook her head quickly.

“Of course not,” she said, “I just didn’t know that about you. _Any_ of it. Your father. Your mother. Owning STAR Labs. You never told us any of that.”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Barry said quietly, “It doesn’t matter who I used to be. What matters is what’s happening _now_.”

“Barry, who you used to be _does_ matter,” she said firmly, “You were the _Flash_. You were a _hero_ and you _still are_. You can’t let this place change you. You can’t lose sight of who you were before.”

“And if I already have?” Barry choked.

Elizabeth looked at him with watery eyes.

“Then they’ve already won,” she whispered, “Barry, don’t let them win. _Please._ You can still be a hero. You can still help people, the same way you helped that woman and her baby.”

Barry took in a shaky breath and wiped his eyes. He gave her a half-hearted smile, but it quickly slid from his face when a sudden thought occurred to him. Barry quickly stood up from the floor and rushed over to the other side of the room.

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked in confusion when Barry grabbed a marker and started writing on the wall.

“Cisco’s watching,” he said quickly as he ran the marker along the wall.

He wrote frantically in large, black letters.

“And the next time he vibes me….I’m going to give him a message.”

* * *

“How did this happen?!” Joe raged, “How did he win?!”

“This can’t be right,” Caitlin said quietly, “There’s no way he actually won.”

“Do you think he tampered with the ballots?” Iris asked tearfully.

“He definitely did _something,”_ Oliver said darkly, “He was always going to win. From the start, we were never going to stop him from being elected. It’s why he didn’t even care whether or not he had my mayoral support. He knew he was going to win.”

“So all of this was for nothing?” Wally asked bitterly, sitting down on Henry’s couch.

“No,” Joe said, “We still managed to make a difference. Price’s election doesn’t change that. He has more power now, yes, but he still doesn’t have the public’s support. _We_ do, and we can use that to our advantage.”

“We have the media’s attention now,” Iris said, “I know we said we weren’t going to give them a statement about Barry, but maybe we should. We have the opportunity now to be heard.”

“We don’t want to draw more attention to ourselves,” Joe said seriously, “Right now, people might suspect that we’re the leaders of the Resistance, but no one knows for sure. Many think we’re just the poor family of the guy in the video, the same way they think about Lucy’s family and the families of all the other people in that video. We should keep it that way for now until we decide what our next move is.”

“I don’t know if we’re going to be able to avoid the media much longer,” Wally said, “I stopped at the house yesterday to grab clothes, and the house was surrounded by media vans.”

“I know,” Joe said quietly, “Singh told me they’ve been swarming the CCPD lately, too, all of them wanting to know more about Barry Allen and who he is.”

Just then, Cisco suddenly rushed into the room, pulling his vibing goggles off his face.

“I just got a vibe!” he announced urgently, “I vibed Barry!”

“Is he okay?!” Caitlin asked worriedly.

Cisco nodded.

“He knows I’m watching him,” he said seriously.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Barry sent me a message,” Cisco said quickly, “He wrote it on a wall.”

They all stared at him in shock.

“What did he say?!” Iris cried.

Cisco glanced at the Green Arrow then, still seeing those large black letters in his eyes.

**SEND OLIVER TO THE ZONE**

**515 ROOSEVELT STREET**

* * *


	26. Barry

* * *

**Barry**

* * *

“Why would Barry want me to go into the zone?” Oliver asked in confusion, “I can do it, sure, but what good will it do? It’s not like I can take Barry back out with me, not with that chip in his neck.”

“I don’t know,” Cisco said, just as confused, “But he must have a reason. He wouldn’t ask you to do this for nothing.”

“You’re going, right?” Iris asked Oliver tearfully, “You’re going into the zone?”

“Of course,” Oliver replied, “Of course, I am. I just don’t know _why_ I am.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Felicity said seriously.

* * *

Oliver waited until it was half past three in the morning before he made his way to the roof of a tall building next to the zone. Felicity had scoped out all the security surrounding the wall for him, and Oliver picked the best spot to breech the wall. It was as far from any guard towers as he could get, and it would be near the address Barry had given them, the house that Barry was living in.

Oliver waited for the perfect time to make his move, drawing his bow and taking aim at a building on the inside of the wall. His arrow flew silently through the night before making contact with the building, a long line of rope attached to it. Oliver attached the rope to a nearby post before applying a hook to it.

After double checking once again that the coast was clear and the guard tower spotlights were pointing in different directions, Oliver leapt over the edge of the build, gliding along the line of rope until he was on the other side.

Once he was inside the zone, Oliver decided to stick to the rooftops, knowing that the streets were being patrolled by guards on foot. He could easily incapacitate any officer he came across, but his goal was to get in and out of the zone without anyone ever knowing he was there.

It was difficult to find the house when he was moving via rooftop, but Oliver was still able to follow the street signs and the directions that Felicity was giving him through his earpiece.

“I found the house,” Oliver muttered through his coms, when he reached the rooftop of the house next to Barry’s, “I’m going in.”

Oliver climbed down from the roof and then circled around the house. It was small and very run down. He noticed immediately that all the windows were boarded up. He looked them over with approval. At least Barry was being smart. The boarded windows wouldn’t keep others out indefinitely, but it was enough to deter people from trying to break into the home. Anyone looking to raid a house would simply pass over this one and move on to an easier one. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble.

Oliver could have broken through the boarded up windows if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to undo their hard work. Instead, he made his way to the back door, not wanting to stand in the front of the house, where a passing truck could potentially see him.

To his surprise, a voice sounded from the other side of the door almost immediately after he tried the handle.

“Who are you?!” the voice demanded harshly.

Oliver was shocked. It was four in the morning. He hadn’t expected anyone to be awake. It wasn’t Barry’s voice coming from the other side of the door, though. It was a different man.

“What do you want?!” the man demanded, not opening the door.

“I’m here to see Barry Allen,” Oliver replied immediately, “It’s Oliver. He wanted me to come here.”

The door suddenly opened then.

“You’re Oliver?” the young man said in shock, “You’re Oliver Queen?”

Oliver nodded and then forced his way into the house, closing the door behind him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “It would be kind of dumb of me to stand outside.”

The kid gave him a weary look, looking him over with mistrustful eyes.

“So, his message worked then,” the young man said, “I didn’t think it would. I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Where’s Barry?” Oliver asked, ignoring what the kid had just said.

“He’s in the bedroom,” another voice said suddenly, and a young woman stepped into the kitchen, “He’s been in there for two days.”

Oliver then followed the woman down a hallway to get to the bedroom. When she opened the door and Oliver stepped inside, it was to find Barry sleeping on the floor, propped up in a sitting position with his back against the wall, his message written in large letters next to him. It made sense now. Barry had no way of knowing if Cisco had gotten his message or not, so he had clearly stayed in this same spot for the last two days, to be sure that the message was visible the next time Cisco vibed him.

Oliver stared in shock for a moment. It was hard to believe he was actually here, in the slums with Barry. For the last two months it almost felt like Barry was completely gone, and yet here he now was, right in front of him. He had been just a couple miles away from them this entire time, but it felt as if he may as well have been on another planet.

“Barry,” Oliver said quietly, crossing the room to lay a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

Oliver winced when he felt how thin he was. The weight Barry had lost over the last month was only mildly visible, but he could definitely _feel_ it when he squeezed Barry’s bony shoulder.

Barry jerked awake and blinked at him a few times, as if he wasn’t quite sure if Oliver was really there.

“Oliver,” he gasped.

Oliver nodded and smiled at him. Barry quickly stood up and threw his arms around him, and Oliver let him this time. He wasn’t much of a hugger, but there was no way he would ever deny the other man a hug right now. Judging by how tightly Barry clung to him, he really needed it, and truthfully, so did Oliver.

“You came,” Barry sobbed, wiping his eyes when they broke apart, “You’re here. Thank you so much for coming! I know the risk you took to get here.”

“It’s good to see you, Barry,” Oliver said, giving Barry a sad smile, “I’m glad I took the risk.”

“Did you…?” Barry said awkwardly, “Did you happen to bring any food with you?”

Oliver’s breath caught in his throat.

“I…didn’t,” he said painfully, “I’m so sorry, Barry. I was so focused on getting here, I didn’t even think about bringing any food or supplies for you. I was anxious to get here as soon as Cisco got your message.”

Barry nodded sadly, and Oliver felt a horrible wave of guilt wash over him when he saw the disappointed look on Barry’s face, especially after just hugging the man and feeling how prominent his ribs were now. Barry was clearly starving.

“It’s okay,” Barry said then, recovering quickly, “That’s not why I called you here, anyways.”

“Why _did_ you call me here?” Oliver asked curiously, “I’m so happy to see you and talk to you, Barry, but why am I here? What can I do to help you?”

Barry shook his head.

“You’re not here to help _me_ ,” he said quickly, “You’re here to help someone else.”

Oliver gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Barry sighed.

“Come with me,” he said seriously before exiting the bedroom.

Oliver silently followed Barry all the way back down the hallway. He was surprised when Barry moved towards the back door and headed outside.

“Where are we going?” Oliver asked, vigilantly looking around for any MRA trucks or officers.

“Not far,” Barry said, and he meant it.

They ended up crossing the yard and moving to the back door of the neighboring house. Oliver watched curiously as Barry knocked on the door in a very specific rhythm. The door opened a moment later. Oliver was surprised, yet again, to find that people were awake inside the house. It seemed that just about everyone here got up around four in the morning for some reason.

“Barry,” an older Latino man said in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

Barry didn’t respond right away. Instead, he led Oliver into the house and closed the door, clearly having the same mindset as Oliver about the foolishness of lingering on doorsteps in the zone.

“I’m sorry, Miguel,” Barry said once they were inside, “I know it’s early. I came here to see Josie.”

“Why _now_?” Miguel asked, looking at Oliver curiously, “Who is this?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” Barry said simply, “He’s here to help.”

With that, Barry turned and walked down the hall toward the bedroom, which seemed to be in the same place as it was in the previous house. Barry knocked lightly on the door before slowly opening it.

“Josie,” he whispered as he entered the room.

A woman who had been sleeping on the floor suddenly startled awake and looked at him in confusion.

“Barry?” she said in surprise as he and Oliver entered the room, “Barry! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you to come see him again.”

“I’m sorry,” Barry muttered, looking down at the floor, “It’s been a hard week. I’m here now, though.”

Josie smiled at him and then sat up from her place on the floor. It was then that Oliver finally saw the bundle in her arms.

“Did you want to hold him?” she asked Barry happily.

Barry gave her an uneasy look.

“I’m sorry, Josie,” he said sadly, “We don’t have much time. The sun will be up in less than an hour, and we have to move quickly.”

“What are you talking about?” Josie asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“This is Oliver,” Barry introduced, gesturing to the man next to him, “He’s from outside the wall. He snuck in to help us.”

Josie looked at Oliver in confusion.

“Help us what?” she asked.

Barry took a deep breath and gave her a pained look before answering.

“He’s going to help us get your baby out of the zone,” he answered quietly.

Oliver looked at Barry in shock. Josie’s eyes widened and then quickly filled with tears.

“W-what?” she asked.

“He doesn’t have a microchip,” Barry whispered, “He can be smuggled out of here, unlike you or me. He can be brought to safety.”

“You want to take him?” Josie sobbed brokenly, “You want to take him away?”

Barry looked at her with watery eyes.

“He’ll die here, Josie,” he choked, “He’ll die if we don’t get him out. I know how hard this is, losing your…one source of happiness here, but we need to do this. It’s the only way to save him.”

Josie let out a strangled sob as she clutched the baby closer to her, looking down at him with tearful eyes.

“I know,” she whispered, “You’re right.”

She held the baby in her arms for a long moment before finally handing him over to Barry. Barry hadn’t held the infant since he was born. He hadn’t even seen him since then. He couldn’t bear to. Until now, all he had seen in the baby was death. He had thought the baby was doomed to die, like Lucy had, like all of them might. But now he saw something different.

He saw hope in the child. He was going to live. Even if Barry and everyone else inside this wall died, this one child would live. He would be the one life that Barry will have been able to save.

“Here,” Barry choked, handing the bundle over to Oliver.

Oliver cradled the infant awkwardly in his arms, gazing down at it in shock. This was the last thing he had been expecting. He had thought Barry had called him there to discuss some master plan to end this whole thing, not to have him smuggle a newborn over the wall.

“What’s his name?” Oliver whispered to the mother.

She gave him a watery smile.

“Barry.”

Oliver’s lips twitched, and he gave her a questioning look.

“Barry helped me deliver him,” Josie said, tears in her eyes as she smiled at Barry, “He would have died if it weren’t for him, and now…now he’ll live because of both of you.”

Oliver gave her a sad smile.

“I’ll get him out safely,” he assured her.

Josie nodded and wiped her eyes, and Oliver and Barry then exited the house. They quickly crossed the yard and paused outside the back door to Barry’s house.

“You should go,” Barry said sadly, looking at the baby in Oliver’s arms, “The sun will be up soon.”

“I still have forty minutes,” Oliver said, looking at his watch, “It’ll take me less than twenty to get out of here. We have time.”

With that, Oliver opened the door to Barry’s house and stepped inside, where they wouldn’t be seen.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came,” Barry said again, as soon as the door was closed.

“We’re saving an innocent life,” Oliver said simply, “It’s worth the risk.”

Barry nodded and sniffed, his eyes filling with tears.

“At least I was able to save one child,” he whispered.

Oliver looked down at the small bracelet Barry had on his wrist. He was rolling the small, plastic beads between his fingers.

“That little girl didn’t die for nothing, Barry,” Oliver said quietly, “Her death has outraged a lot of people. Her story helped spark the Resistance. So did yours.”

“Did her parents see it?” Barry whispered, a few tears escaping his eyes, “Did they see the vibe?”

Oliver shook his head.

“I don’t know, Barry,” he said softly, “It was broadcasted to the entire country, but I don’t know if they watched it.”

“Can you please tell them…” Barry choked, “Tell them I’m so s-sorry.”

“They know,” Oliver whispered, “They don’t blame you, Barry. And even with their daughter gone, they’re still helping the Resistance. They want to free the rest of the metahumans, especially you. They’re so grateful to you, Barry. They know you did everything you could.”

Barry shook his head and wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“The Resistance,” he said then, “What are you all planning to do?”

“We’re recruiting right now,” Oliver told him, “We’re gaining in numbers. People from all over the country are now coming to protest. It’s made Price’s first few days as mayor very difficult for him. We’re planning to go to the senator soon. We’re hoping he’ll be able to step in and overrule Price.”

Barry nodded and looked at the floor.

“Thank you for not giving up,” he said quietly, “For fighting for me and the rest of us in here. I wish I could fight with you.”

“You’re fighting your own war in _here_ , Barry,” Oliver said firmly.

Barry shook his head.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said bitterly, “I missed my chance to fight back. Now, it’s all on you guys to be the heroes, while I’m stuck in here, just another useless victim.”

“Barry, you are far from useless,” Oliver said incredulously, “You really don’t realize how much you’ve _done_?! How many people you’ve helped in here?! You’ve done so much for so many people here, not as the Flash, but as Barry Allen. Even without your powers, you’re still a hero. You always were. Your powers weren’t what made you a hero, Barry. It’s your heart, your ability to inspire people, to inspire hope. Don’t lose that hope now, Barry. Don’t ever let them take that light away from you. It’s the one thing they can’t take.”

Barry nodded and gave Oliver a small, watery smile.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop what you’re doing,” he said quietly, “If it were only to help me, I would, but what you’re doing is helping a lot of other people. I can’t ask you to stop, not when so many other lives are at stake.”

Oliver nodded sadly.

“I need you to promise me something, though,” Barry whispered.

“What?” Oliver asked.

“Don’t come back.”

“What?”

“Don’t come back into the zone,” Barry said seriously, “It’s not worth the risk. I need you to promise me that this will be the _only_ time you cross the wall.”

“Barry,” Oliver said painfully, “I can’t promise you that. You’re _starving_. I have to come back and—”

“No,” Barry said firmly, his dead serious eyes boring into Oliver’s, “It’s not worth it. If you get caught crossing the wall, not only will I never be able to forgive myself, but it will also compromise the Resistance. The Resistance is more important than me. You have to promise me that you won’t do it, Oliver.”

“Barry…”

“ _Promise me_ ,” Barry gritted.

Oliver sighed and nodded slowly.

“I promise,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” Barry said quietly.

He then looked at the baby in Oliver’s arms.

“You should go,” he said sadly, “Get him out of here.”

To his own surprise, Oliver’s eyes filled with tears.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he choked, “I don’t want to just leave you here.”

“I’ll be fine,” Barry assured him.

Barry sighed heavily then and moved to detach the strap on his watch, taking it off.

“Could you give this back to Joe for me?” he whispered.

Oliver looked sadly at the watch as Barry placed it in his hand.

“Barry…”

“We need to be realistic,” Barry said softly, tears welling in his eyes, “I might not make it out of here, Oliver, and if I don’t, I want to make sure Joe gets it back.”

Oliver closed his fingers around the watch and nodded. He pocketed the watch and then removed his own.

“At least take mine then,” he insisted, “It might help you.”

Barry gave him a watery smile and took the watch from him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, securing the watch on his wrist.

Oliver nodded sadly.

“Be smart, Barry,” he whispered, “Stay alive.”

Barry nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Tell everyone I love them,” he said, “And I’m going to do everything I can to stay alive for them. I promise. I’ll be smart.”

Oliver gave him a watery smile and nodded before moving to give Barry a one-armed hug, holding the baby in his other arm. Barry sniffed and wiped his eyes when they broke apart. Oliver didn’t want to leave. It felt so wrong, just walking away and leaving Barry here, leaving him to what could be his death. This might be the last time he sees Barry alive.

“Go,” Barry whispered.

Oliver had a lump in his throat as he turned and walked towards the door.  He never felt more helpless in his life.

Of all the lives he had saved before, he couldn’t save Barry.

* * *

“Are you okay?!” Felicity asked when Oliver walked into the headquarters, “Is _Barry_ okay?!”

“He’s alright,” Oliver said simply, walking over to the desk they had set up there.

“What did he want?” Joe asked urgently, “What did he want from you?”

Oliver sighed and then showed them the bundle in his arms.

“Is that a baby?!” Wally asked in shock.

Oliver nodded. Iris rushed forward for a closer look, and Oliver was quick to deposit the baby in her arms. She seemed a lot more comfortable with holding him than Oliver was.

“Where did it come from?” Iris asked quietly.

Oliver took a deep breath.

“He was born in the zone,” he said, and the others’ eyes all widened, “Barry helped deliver him.”

They all stared at him in surprise as they took in this news.

“That’s why he wanted you to sneak in,” Henry said, understanding now, “He wanted you to get the baby out.”

Oliver nodded.

“He wanted to save at least one person,” he said quietly.

The others all nodded sadly at his words, knowing that Barry would do anything and everything to save as many lives as he possibly could.

“What’s his name?” Iris asked after a moment.

Oliver’s lips twitched.

“It’s Barry,” he said, “The mother named him after him.”

This brought tears to all their eyes. Iris shook her head.

“Even without his powers,” she said quietly, “Barry still finds ways to be a hero.”

They all smiled sadly at the thought. Barry always managed to touch the lives of everyone around him, not as a superhero, not as the Flash, but as Barry Allen.

“So what now?” Joe asked, gesturing to the tiny baby in Iris’s arms, “What do we do with him?”

“We bring him to his father,” Oliver answered, “Daniel Anderson, the mother’s husband. He’s human, and he lives in Central City. Josie wanted us to take him to him.”

The others nodded, happy that they at least had a good place for the baby to go. At least baby Barry would be reunited with his father.

“What about _our_ Barry?” Iris asked tearfully, “Was he okay? What did he say to you?”

“We didn’t have much time to talk,” Oliver said painfully, “He’s hanging in there, though. He’s being strong. I wish I had thought to bring food and supplies into the zone with me, though. Barry’s out of food now, and he’s…clearly starving. I was going to go back in to bring him supplies, but Barry made me promise not to. He didn’t want me to risk my life trying to sneak in again.”

“Are you going to anyways?” Felicity asked hopefully.

Oliver gave her a pained look.

“Barry was serious,” he whispered, “He made me _promise_. He didn’t want me to compromise the Resistance for him. He said the Resistance is more important.”

They all looked down at the floor with these words. The fact that they couldn’t help Barry made all their stomachs churn.

“Barry’s on his own,” Cisco said sadly.

“He’s not alone,” Oliver assured them, “If I learned anything from my visit to the zone, it’s that Barry has people there who care about him, and he clearly cares a great deal for them. It wasn’t just Lucy who he was looking out for. Barry has a…a _family_ there.”

The others smiled sadly upon hearing this. It was good to know that Barry wasn’t alone, that he had people there who he had grown to love, but it was also saddening at the same time.

“He hasn’t forgotten about us,” Oliver said, as if reading their minds, “He wanted me to tell you all that he loves you, and he’s going to make it through all of this so he can see you again, when this is all over. He’s going to do whatever it takes to survive.”

“I know he will,” Joe said proudly, wiping his eyes, “I just wish we could talk to him.”

Oliver gave Joe a sad smile and then walked up to him, pulling something out of his pocket.

“Barry wanted me to give this to you,” he whispered, handing Joe the old watch.

Joe put a hand over his mouth and his eyes swam with tears as he looked at the cracked watch face. He closed his hand around it, and the tears fell from his eyes. It all suddenly became so much more real now.

It felt like Barry was already gone.

* * *


	27. Words Begin to Change

* * *

**Words Begin to Change**

* * *

_Two months later…_

The November air was frigid and bitter cold as Barry stood in line. He cupped his hands over his mouth and tried to use his breath to warm them. Like always, it didn’t help much. He hoped today wouldn’t be another day that he came back empty-handed. He didn’t want the frostbite to be for nothing.

He had actually done a pretty good job of taking care of his hands in this cold. It was definitely a challenge, though, considering the poor circulation he now had in his limbs from the chronic malnutrition. His fingernails were blue most of the time, and the bitter cold made his hands feel like they were being dipped in acid. His skin was now so dry that his hands were chapped and bleeding most of the time. Of all the pain and torture he had endured in his life, who would have thought that the cold would be the most painful?

 _This isn’t worth it_ , he thought bitterly as he stood in line. He burnt more calories from the walk here and from the constant shivering than he got from his portions. He and Adam had been taking turns, going each day. If Barry was being completely honest, he agreed with Adam’s opinion about the food. He and Adam were burning more calories to get it every day, and they should probably be getting larger portions than the other three. Barry would never voice that thought out loud, though. He willingly split the food evenly.

He suspected that Adam was maybe starting to save small bits of food for himself, but Barry didn’t say anything about it. It wasn’t worth the argument that would result from the accusation, and it wouldn’t change anything anyways. Besides, if Adam _was_ taking food for himself, it would be in very minute amounts, nothing worth fighting over.

Other people here would clearly disagree. Barry had seen people fighting over the pettiest amounts of food. He had seen people kill each other over a couple bites of canned beans. It made his stomach churn just to think about what this place had done to its inhabitants, the ugliness it had brought out in them.

And in himself.

Just yesterday, Barry had walked past a starving child. In the past, he had given begging children small amounts of just his portions, but over time, this place had made him realize that as much as he wanted to help _everyone_ , he simply couldn’t. If he had continued giving away bits of his portions every day, he would have starved to death by now.

The bodies that littered the streets now weren’t all from people fighting over food. In fact, most of them weren’t from fighting at all. People were starting to die from the starvation and the cold. Men, women, and even children could be seen lying in the streets wherever he went now. After a while, the trucks had stopped coming. They stopped collecting the bodies. It wasn’t long before bodies were piling up in the streets, left out in the open to rot where passersby could see them and small animals could get at them. It made Barry sick to think that he had grown so accustomed to seeing bodies every day that he didn’t think much of it anymore when he walked past them. He had numbed himself to it.

The smell, though. God, the smell. No amount of time in the slums would ever allow him to get used to it. He knew that for the rest of his life, he would never forget the memory of what the streets in the meta slums smelled like.

The peace that they had all enjoyed for a short time ended about a month ago, shortly after the food started running out. Many units had fallen victim to the food raids, and as a result, they were slowly starving. Barry was never quite as terrified as he was when he was on his daily food run. Standing in line, waiting to be given rations, was the scariest part of his day. It used to be because he was afraid of the guards shooting him for stepping out of line. Now, it was the other metas that scared him most.

He didn’t feel as strong as he once did. He felt drained and weak most of the time, his muscles atrophying and his organs struggling to keep functioning with so little fuel. This was why he couldn’t share his food anymore. He needed it just to keep himself _alive_. Barry hated himself every time he passed the starving children who were begging in the streets for food. He kept his eyes straight ahead and didn’t look at them as he passed. The slums were changing him. They were hardening him. He was walking past the decaying bodies of _children_ every day. How could that not harden him? In the slums, it was every man for himself, and as much as Barry wanted to help everyone he could, he had to focus on his own survival now.

And he absolutely hated himself for it.

The number of metahuman deaths significantly increased once the power had been shut off. They would had been able to cope without any electricity just fine when the weather was warmer, but as it started to get colder and winter rolled in, more and more people were being found having frozen to death.

Barry’s unit could only light a fire at night. They had to conserve their wood, so they made due during the day, often huddling together for warmth. It was the only way to avoid freezing to death. Barry’s body ached with exhaustion from his constant shivering. He wished he had been wearing warmer clothes when he was taken by the MRA. All he had was a T-shirt and a thin sweatshirt and jeans. It was hard for him to go outside to search for wood, but he did it. Most of the slums were picked over already, all the available wood having been taken. Entire houses were being torn apart to use for wood.

As Barry stood in line, he saw the body of an old man sitting right next to him. He was sitting up, leaning back against the side of a building. He hadn’t been there yesterday, so Barry knew the man must have just died within the last twenty-four hours or so. As Barry watched, another man with a sad and slightly nervous expression walked up to the new corpse. He hesitated for a moment before stooping down next to the body.

Barry thought he heard him say something to it, but he couldn’t make out the words. Barry stared as the man then reached down and took the shoes off the old man’s body. He stood up straight then, shoes in hand, and turned to look right at Barry. He and Barry shared a look, a moment of guilty understanding that Barry would never forget. Barry didn’t judge the man for it. He could see the pair of flimsy sandals the guy was wearing and wondered how the man had even managed to keep his toes in this cold, wearing a pair of shoes like that for this long. After the man had walked away, Barry shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he looked at the body again.

The man was wearing a coat.

* * *

“What did I tell you?!” Joe raged, screaming at his daughter.

“I don’t care!” she said defiantly, “I did what I thought was right!”

“Getting yourself killed?!” Joe shouted, “That’s what you think is right?!”

“Dad,” Wally said, stepping in, “I think you’re overreacting a bit.”

“She promised me!” Joe yelled angrily, “She promised she wouldn’t go! I am _not_ overreacting!”

“No, you’re being a coward!” Iris cried back at him, “You’re just scared! Don’t you think it’d be a little hypocritical of us to tell everyone to join the Lucy Resistance and then not participate in it ourselves?!”

“Iris, that was more than just some protest,” Joe said angrily, “You could have gotten hurt! People there probably recognized you. Everyone knows we’re Barry’s family, and I don’t want someone from the MRA to take advantage of that.”

“The MRA are _cowards_ ,” Iris spat, “Clinton Price hasn’t shown his face in over a _month_. They’re not going to do anything.”

“Because they already have the upper hand,” Joe argued, “Price may be in hiding, but he’s still passing legislations, Iris. He’s still in power. Don’t forget that!”

“What’s he going to do to me?!” she shouted, “Tell me, dad, what more can he possibly do?!”

“It would be easy,” Joe said darkly, “A young reporter ‘accidentally’ gets killed in a protest. It wouldn’t be the first incident of its kind. Iris, you’re supposed to be keeping your head down. Let Oliver find Price.”

“I’m not going to just stick my head in the sand,” she said stubbornly, “I’m going to do my part to help Barry.”

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and took a calming breath, trying to control his frustration with his daughter.

“Iris,” he said, his voice much softer now, “Please, don’t do this to me anymore. I can’t focus on everything else if I’m constantly worrying about you. I can’t lose another child.”

Joe ran his fingers over the watch on his wrist, tears filling his eyes.

“Barry isn’t _dead_ ,” Iris said angrily, “Cisco just vibed him three days ago. He’s not dead, dad, so stop acting like he is.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Joe said in a hurt voice, “He…he’s been gone for three months, Iris. It’s hard not to feel sometimes like we’ve lost him. I’m not _giving up_. I’m just trying to be smart about this. We need to be careful.”

“I’m just…” Iris gritted, “I’m just so _frustrated!_ Barry is just two miles away from us right now— _two miles_ , dad—and we can’t see him. He’s _suffering_ , and we can’t help him. That last vibe…he looked so awful. He’s _starving_! That place is chipping away at his spirit, and it’s only a matter of time before we lose him for good.”

“There’s still hope, though,” Wally said quietly, “The Resistance…it’s growing more every day. The symbols are everywhere now.”

People had been spray-painting the Flash symbol all over the city. The graffiti had only increased after Price passed a law banning the symbol entirely. It was illegal to wear or possess anything with the Flash symbol on it, which in turn, just made people want to use the symbol more. The more Price fought it, the stronger the symbol—and its meaning—became.

The Flash emblem had always been well-known in Central City and even the state of Ohio, but now it was a symbol known nationwide, and even throughout different parts of the world. Even though Barry Allen was practically the face of the Resistance, no one knew that he was also the original bearer of the symbol. No one knew for sure that he was the Flash. There were rumors, though. The Flash symbol was the symbol of the Resistance, and Barry Allen was the face of the Resistance. Of course, people put two and two together and speculated about it. But the fact that Barry Allen was already registered in the MRA’s records as a metahuman with healing abilities made the theories somewhat flawed. No one knew for certain if the symbol originally belonged to Barry or not.

It was no longer the Flash symbol anymore, though. The emblem didn’t represent one man. It represented an entire group of people. It represented hope and perseverance in the face of tyranny.

“We should have killed Price when we had the chance,” Joe said bitterly, “When Oliver went to talk to him, he should have killed him then.”

“We’ll find him, dad,” Iris assured him.

“It won’t do any good,” Joe said hopelessly, “Even if we kill him now, the MRA will still exist. Someone else will just take his place.”

“Then we won’t just take down Price,” Wally said simply, “We’ll take down the entire MRA.”

“How?” Joe asked defeatedly, “We’ve already gone to the senator, the governor, and then the _president_ of the United States. None of them will help.”

“Maybe we should stop looking to the government for help then,” Iris said darkly, “We should be doing more to protest. Who cares about the law anymore?”

“You’re talking about _anarchy_ , Iris,” Joe said seriously, “That’s not a good thing either.”

“It’s better than allowing this to happen,” she said angrily, “I’m so tired of following the rules, dad. I’m tired of broadcasting all these videos of Barry’s suffering, of him nearly freezing to death every night, of him taking things off bodies just to survive. I’m tired of just being ‘Barry Allen’s family’ to promote the Resistance. I’m tired of dragging our feet and just watching this happen.”

“Okay,” Joe said seriously, crossing his arms, “What exactly is your plan then? What do _you_ want to do that we’re not already doing?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “Yesterday, I overheard some members of the Resistance talking about…about bombing the wall.”

“What?!”

“Just hear me out, dad,” she said quickly, “I know it doesn’t solve the whole microchip thing, but it would make a statement, and if we overran the zone, we might be able to see Barry, even if he can’t leave with the chip in his neck.”

“Iris, the last time the MRA got bombed back in July, things didn’t go well,” Joe said seriously, “The last time protestors tried to use bombs, Price introduced his segregation laws.”

“That would have happened anyways,” Wally pointed out, “Price just used the bombing as an excuse to justify it. He was already planning the segregation long before that.”

Joe took in a shaky breath.

“Look guys,” he said calmly to his two children, “I’m frustrated, _too_. I understand the need to take action. I _do_. It’s just that…at this point, I just don’t want to make things even _worse_.”

“You mean worse than Barry slowly starving to death?” Iris asked quietly.

Joe didn’t know what to say to that. She was right; it couldn’t really get much worse than it already was.

* * *

Barry clutched the small box tightly to his chest, trying to tuck it into his coat as much as possible so it’d be less visible. His feet were numb as he walked through the shallow snow on the ground. In the past, he had run at top speed back to his unit whenever he managed to get a box, but he didn’t have it in him to run today. This was the first box in three days, and Barry was so dizzy just from trying to stay upright. If he tried to run now, he’d probably pass out.

After rounding the corner of a building, Barry suddenly froze in his tracks. There was a group of raiders standing on the end of the street. Barry ducked back behind the corner before they could see him. This was what the raiders did. They would post in different areas throughout the zone and ambush people as they were returning home with their boxes. A lot of the time, they killed their victims before taking their food.

Barry knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun them if they spotted him. They were well-fed and could easily overpower any other malnourished person in the zone, himself included. Barry didn’t have much time to think. He had to find a way to escape or at least hide before they made their way down the street and found him. He could hide in a building, but they often searched all the buildings and would most likely find him. It was too hard to hide, especially when he was carrying a food box with him.

Looking at the wooden box, Barry suddenly had an idea. He broke the box open on the cement and quickly started pulling out all its contents. He shoved all the food inside his jacket and then abandoned the empty box. He didn’t need to completely disappear from sight in order to hide.

Barry’s stomach churned as he approached the corpse of a young woman. The body was bloated and decaying, telling him that it was a good three days old at the very least. Barry shifted the woman’s body, maneuvering it so that he could slide underneath it. His body shivered uncontrollably as he laid down in the snow under the corpse. He got into position just in time before the group of meta raiders rounded the corner.

Barry kept as still as possible when he heard their voices near him. He thought for sure that if they didn’t see him breathing, they were sure to see him shivering. His body wasn’t equipped to handle this kind of cold right now. Barry fought through the pain of it, though, and continued to play dead as he listened to the gang of raiders talk to each other.

“You,” one of them said, “Go search that shop right there.”

“ _You_ go,” the other man argued, “Who made you in charge?”

WHAM!

Barry heard a loud thud as the man hit the ground, landing right next to him. Barry kept his eyes closed and focused on staying as still as possible, his heart racing as the first man spoke again. His voice sounded strangely familiar.

“That was just a warning,” he said dangerously, “You step out of turn again, and it’ll be _you_ who will be feeding us instead a portion box today.”

Barry felt like he was going to throw up upon hearing these words, sickened by the meaning behind them. As bad as things were now, he had never thought it would come to this. He had heard of people killing other members of their own units so they’d have less people to share food with, but this was the first he had heard of _cannibalism_.

As the man who had been thrown to the ground got up and the members of the group continued talking, Barry suddenly recognized the voice of the man who had been speaking.

Mark Mardon.

Of course. Barry hadn’t even given him any thought when all this was happening. It only made sense that Mardon would be also be put in here, with the rest of the metahumans. Of course Mardon would be one of the raiders feeding off all the others. He was the type to put his own survival above everyone else’s. Barry had never hated the man more than he did right now.

Barry couldn’t help but wonder who else was in this zone that he knew from before. Officer Liddell had to be here somewhere, but Barry hadn’t seen him. It was a big zone. Clearly, all the metahumans who had been in the metahuman wing at Iron Heights had been transferred here, too.

“Okay,” the other man’s voice responded shakily as he got up from the ground, “Okay, I’m going, alright? Just calm down.”

Barry’s heart sank and his stomach twisted when he also recognized this voice. He hadn’t seen his neighbor in a long time, and now he knew why. Miguel had joined the meta raiders. Barry thanked every god in existence that Miguel hadn’t recognized him laying there. Most people didn’t spare the bodies a second glance, but if he had, Miguel would have certainly recognized him.

Barry was in shock that Miguel would do this. Granted, he didn’t know the other man very well, but he had thought he had known him better than _this_. It seemed the zone had gotten to Miguel the same way it had many others. It had brought out the worst in him. Barry felt betrayed, but he didn’t feel angry with the man. He knew Miguel had suffered terribly after Josie’s death. She hadn’t lasted very long once the infection had set in. Barry blamed himself, of course. He had done everything he could to prevent infection after the birth, but he hadn’t had the medical supplies to provide quality care for her. He always wondered if there had been something else he could have done to prevent it. At least he had managed to save the baby.

After the voices of the raiders drifted away down the street, Barry waited a moment before emerging from his hiding place. He stood up straight and looked down at the body of the woman he had been hiding under. Her eyes were wide open. Barry took a deep breath before stooping down to try to close them. They wouldn’t stay closed, though, and Barry sighed as he stood back up again.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispered to the stranger.

After readjusting all the food he had stashed in his jacket, Barry continued the rest of the way down the street. He felt numb from more than just the cold. Barry had numbed himself to his surroundings entirely. Everything was so different now. His _life_ was so different. It felt like it was a lifetime ago he was living at home with Joe, that he was running around as the Flash.

Things were different in the zone. Words slowly began to change and had different meaning to him now. Hunger, for example, meant another thing entirely to Barry now than it did before. He had before used hunger to describe the mild discomfort of an empty stomach, but now hunger meant something else entirely. It was more than a discomfort.

It was _agony_.

He thought of all the times he had casually said that he was “starving” when he was really just a little hungry, but now he could say he knew what starvation felt like. There were no words to describe it, no simile to compare it with, no terms in the English dictionary that were strong enough to encapsulate the sheer pain of it. And it _was_ painful. It was a pain he had never felt before, a gnawing ache that left him feeling hopeless and empty, both figuratively and literally.

Fear was another word that he had heard misused so many times. He had used it, himself, to describe what he felt every time he had faced a new villain as the Flash, every time he was afraid he wouldn’t meet a work deadline in time, every time as a kid when he had faced the darkness in his bedroom late at night after his mother was murdered, but now he realized he had never felt true fear before.

The fear he had as a kid of things that went bump in the night was meaningless. Fear of simple things, such as a failure at work or getting a C in gym class and not knowing how to tell Joe—that was nothing. Those fears were fleeting and trivial. Now, he knew what it was to be _truly_ scared, to actually fear for his life and the lives of the strangers he had come to love. He had no brave Flash persona to hide behind now. He was just a man, a man doing the best he could with the situation he was given, and he was terrified. Every moment that had passed since he had been taken from his home, he was completely and utterly terrified.

But Barry put on a brave face. He smiled and tried to appear confident around those who had come to rely on him. There was no running to Joe this time to keep the monsters out of his bedroom. He wasn’t able to rely on a father figure now. _He_ was the one people were looking to for comfort and reassurance. He was the one who was making the decisions—life and death decisions—every day.

Nearly two years of being the Flash had both given him confidence and robbed him of it at the same time. This wasn’t his first time making these kinds of decisions—ones in which the lives of other people depended on—and he had made wrong decisions before. In the past, his decisions had led others, like Eddie and Ronnie, to perish. Barry wasn’t ever sure of a single decision he had made since, and he still wasn’t sure. He couldn’t dwell on his past mistakes, though. He could only do his best and try make up for his wrong decisions then by making the right ones now. He could make up for the mistakes he had made, and he could do that by keeping these people safe from harm, even if it meant sacrificing his own wellbeing.

He hadn’t forgotten about his promise to Oliver, though—his promise to stay alive for them. He was looking out for the remaining members of his unit, burning calories and braving the cold every day to get food for them, but he was still trying to look out for himself at the same time. It was the greatest challenge that he faced in the slums, balancing helping others while also trying to keep himself alive. Barry had failed to keep countless promises in his life. He had failed Lucy and her family as well as countless others he had made promises to. But he was determined not to break the promise that he had made to himself.

That he would save the rest of them, including himself.

* * *


	28. Treason vs Patriotism

**Warning: Implied suicide**

* * *

**Treason vs Patriotism**

* * *

“Okay,” Oliver said seriously to everyone.

Hundreds of people filled the headquarters building, all waiting to hear what Mayor Queen had to say.

“When the wall goes down tomorrow, things are going to happen fast,” he said, addressing the entire room, “Price is most likely not going to be there, but we might be able to overrun the MRA all the same. If we gain control of the zone, we can get the upper hand. We won’t be able to get the metahumans out because of the chips, but we’ll be able to give them supplies. We’ll make sure they’re taken care of, and then we’ll do whatever we can to prepare for the MRA’s retaliation. They’ll no doubt try to storm the zone to take back control of the area. We need to be ready for a fight.”

“What are we going to do?” one man called out from the crowd, “They’re just going to overrun us and take back control.”

“We’re going to be smart,” Oliver said seriously, “We’re not going to all rush into the zone at once. Some of us will stay back and wait. When the MRA rushes in, they’ll think they have us outnumbered. The Resistance members on the outside will wait until the MRA rushes in, and then we’ll flank them from behind. We’ll have them surrounded, and we’ll take them out.”

“We’re going to _kill_ them?!” someone shouted in disbelief.

“We’ll try to subdue them and take whoever we can hostage,” Oliver said, “But yes, there will be casualties. This is more than just a protest. This is a _war_ we’re fighting, and there _will_ be deaths once that wall comes down.”

“I didn’t sign on to _kill_ people,” one man shouted angrily, “I say we continue to protest!”

“The MRA is already killing people,” Oliver said angrily, “Protesting is getting us nowhere. We need to fight fire with fire now. They’ve left us no other choice.”

“But what if they kill _us_?” one woman asked fearfully, “So far, all they’ve been doing is arresting people in the Lucy Resistance. If we start a war, they’re going to open fire on us. They’ll slaughter us!”

A few other people shouted their agreement. Oliver looked forebodingly at the woman, and she shrank back under his gaze.

“These are our loved ones,” he said darkly to everyone, his voice shaking in anger, “Those are our friends and _family_ on the other side of that wall. They need someone to fight for them, and I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to fight and _die_ for every sole that’s suffering in those slums. Barry Allen may be the face of our resistance, but there are thousands more people suffering on the other side of that wall, in our own backyard. The MRA has taken away their freedom. They’ve taken our loved ones from us. We’re here, gathered today, not as a _protest_ , but as an army, here in defiance of tyranny. Fight and yes, you may die. Don’t fight, and sure, you will live. You will go on to live the rest of your lives.”

Everyone who was gathered there became silent and listened to Oliver’s speech with wide eyes.

“But as you lay dying in your beds, many years from now,” Oliver said darkly, “Would you be willing to trade all the days, from this day to that, to come back here? To have just one more chance, _one chance_ , to come back here and save the ones we love?! To tell the MRA that they can’t take them from us. That they can’t take away the freedom of _any_ American citizen, of any _human being_. That Central City is ours and ours alone and that no matter what they do, they can’t take the city or our loved ones from us!”

A few people in the crowd cheered and shouted their agreement.

“Long live Barry Allen!” Oliver shouted, and the entire space was then filled with noise, everyone cheering and shouting their approval.

Their defiance.

Tomorrow, the wall would be coming down.

* * *

Barry felt Elizabeth shiver and press closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her and held her closer. He had already given her his jacket, which she had been too cold to refuse. A shiver ran through his own body as they pressed closer together.

“He should be back soon,” he assured her, his teeth chattering, “Hopefully he’ll have a box with him.”

Today was Adam’s turn to go for a food box. He had been gone all morning, and the others were anxiously awaiting his return. Barry always worried whenever Adam left the house. He was just a kid, no older than Wally, and Barry knew how dangerous it was to leave the unit now. He wished he could go with him to the dispersal, like they had before, but with time they realized that by having two people go every day, they were just burning twice the calories.

“Why is the MRA doing this?” Felix asked angrily from where he was huddled with Kathy, “If their goal is simply to kill us, why didn’t they just go around and kill everyone from the start then? Why leave us to starve and freeze to death?”

“I don’t know,” Barry sighed, “None of what they’re doing makes sense to me.”

“I just want a reason,” Elizabeth said bitterly, “I just want to know _why_. Why do they hate us so much?! I understand being afraid of us and wanting to exterminate us, but why torture us? Why make us suffer in here? For what purpose?!”

“I don’t know why we’re even still trying,” Kathy said hopelessly, “Why bother?”

“Kathy,” Barry snapped, “ _Don’t_.”

He had gotten into countless arguments with the woman about this. He wouldn’t let her think that way. He wouldn’t let her even consider what she had clearly been considering ever since their food had run out.

“Other people are doing it,” she whispered, “Why not us?”

“Because we have people out there who we still need to live for,” Barry said angrily, “There are people out there fighting for us.”

“Like the Flash?” she snapped.

“Kathy!” Elizabeth yelled, “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare even go there! Barry did everything he could!”

“Elizabeth,” Barry whispered, “It’s fine. Just let it go.”

The small room became silent again then. Barry’s empty stomach was churning. He knew Kathy didn’t mean what she said. She was in a dark place right now. They _all_ were. Kathy had especially let this place get to her. She had grown bitter over time and wasn’t very a pleasant presence in the house. It wasn’t her fault, though.

They were in hell.

Another shiver ran through Elizabeth, and she pressed closer to Barry, to his warmth. Barry felt a lump form in his throat.

He loved her.

Barry knew now that he loved the woman next to him, but he couldn’t do anything to act on that love. Not here. His feelings were always conflicting. He had someone back at home that he still loved and cared about. He still loved Iris. He didn’t know how it was possible to love two people so much at the same time. One was from his old life, and one was from his life now. He loved them both, but whether or not he was _in_ love with either of them was something he was still trying to figure out. Romance was really the last thing on Barry’s mind right now.

Elizabeth had been very understanding about his reluctance. Their situation didn’t allow room for that kind of thing—for love—and Barry had put a wall up, surrounding his heart, after Lucy’s death. He couldn’t afford to care about another person that much again.

And Elizabeth understood that.

* * *

“That was a great speech,” Henry told him when Oliver stepped down from the podium.

Oliver smiled at him as they moved to go back to their own private room, away from the crowd.

“I can’t believe we’re bombing the wall tomorrow,” Iris said quietly once they were alone and had closed the door behind them, “We’re really going to see Barry tomorrow.”

“When the wall goes down,” Joe said seriously, “And the MRA is taken care of, we’ll go straight to Barry and make sure he’s okay. We’ll bring him some supplies.”

“At least we know where to go,” Cisco said, “515 Roosevelt Street. We should be able to get to him quickly.”

“Hopefully,” Oliver said, “It’s going to be pandemonium tomorrow. With fighting the MRA and everyone else trying to get to their loved ones, it might not be that easy to get to Barry. We just have to hope he has the sense to stay in his unit until we come for him. With all the fighting that’s going to happen, there’s a good chance Barry will leave his house to join in the fight.”

“He’s too weak for that right now,” Caitlin said seriously, “He can’t fight in the condition he’s in.”

“But he’ll still try,” Oliver said surely, “As soon as he figures out what’s going on, Barry will try to help.”

“We can track him,” Felicity assured them, “We’ll use the metatracker app to find his location. That is, if the system doesn’t overload. With that many metahumans in one place, the signal might get scrambled. We just have to hope that it doesn’t.”

Oliver sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a mess,” he said, “Everything’s going to happen fast, and if we don’t have a plan for the aftermath of overthrowing the MRA, it’s going to be chaos. We’ll have to instruct everyone in the Resistance to have their loved ones go back to their units once the fight’s over. We need to keep order.”

“The metahumans are still going to be stuck there,” Wally said, “They’re going to have to continue living there until we can find a way to disable the chips.”

“We’ll have to turn the power back on,” Felicity said seriously, “That needs to be a priority. Getting them food, power, and running water.”

“What then?” Cisco asked nervously, “The MRA is part of the government, and Price somehow has the support of practically the entire senate! That won’t simply be the end of it. What we’re doing is technically treason.”

“No, it’s patriotism,” Joe said firmly, “The difference between treason and patriotism is only a matter of dates. Our founding fathers were technically terrorists when they revolted against England, but our history remembers them as patriots and heroes. How _we’re_ remembered depends solely on whether we win or not.”

“So we just have to make sure we win,” Iris said surely, “We have most of the country on our side. The government doesn’t stand a chance against us when the majority of its own citizens support us.”

“People shouldn’t fear their government,” Oliver said, nodding, “A government should fear its people.”

“The country is split on the issue, though,” Wally said, “This could lead to a civil war.”

Oliver took a deep breath and looked seriously at all of them, his expression dark.

“So be it.”

* * *

Barry almost felt like he was flying. His feet barely touched the ground as he raced through the city. The wind whipped past his face as lightning coursed through his veins. Air couldn’t get out of his way fast enough, and the world blurred around him, disappearing from view until it was just him. Him and the ground beneath his feet.

Nothing could touch him.

Barry startled awake to the sound of gunshots.

He bolted upright from where he had been laying next to Elizabeth. She sat up, too, as well as everyone else in their unit. There was some sort of commotion going on outside. People were shouting and gunshots were going off every few seconds.

“What’s happening?” Kathy asked fearfully.

“I don’t know,” Barry said seriously, looking at Oliver’s watch.

It was two in the morning. Before any of them could even move, there was a loud pounding on their door.

“MRA!” a man’s voice shouted, “You have five seconds to open this door!”

His heart racing, Barry scrambled over to the window to peak out through the crack in the boards. It was an officer.

Barry rushed to the door and unlocked it, knowing he didn’t have any other choice. The door slammed open with a loud bang, and then the man was suddenly grabbing Barry by the collar of his shirt.

“Get out of the house!” he ordered them, throwing Barry through the doorway, “All of you!”

Barry hit the snow-covered ground with a thud. He was quick to get back on his feet again as the others in his unit were reluctantly exiting the house. They moved to stand by him, as the officer turned back to shout into the house.

“If anyone else is still in here, come out now!” he boomed, “Anyone caught trying to hide will be found and shot!”

Looking around the street, Barry saw that they weren’t the only ones being pulled out of their unit in the middle of the night. The street was filled with people, all being pulled from their homes. Officers were pointing their guns at them as they led them to waiting trucks, shooting anyone who tried to run.

“Come on!” the MRA officer shouted at them then, pointing his gun at them, “Start moving!”

Barry and his unit all reluctantly started to walk, moving at a fast pace as the officer urged them to go faster. Barry looked down at the snow as he walked, looking at the flecks of crimson mixed in with the white.

When they reached the closest truck, they were roughly grabbed by officers and loaded into the back of it. It was very much like the night they had first been taken. They had all been in the same truck that night, and they were in the same one together now.

Like that first night, it all happened very quickly. One minute they were safe in their home, and the next they were suddenly crammed in a dark, small space, packed in like sardines until there was room for no more bodies.

Once the truck was full, the door was closed and the floor beneath them lurched as they started to move.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Oliver’s speech was partially inspired by _Braveheart._**

**Disclaimer: _“The difference between treason and patriotism is only a matter of dates.”_ –Alexandre Dumas, _The Count of Monte Cristo_**

* * *


	29. People

**Warning: This chapter contains nudity and will require a certain level of maturity to read. If you want to read something happy, I recommend a different fic.**

* * *

**People**

* * *

“Everyone’s panicking,” Oliver told them as he returned to their headquarters meeting room, “The whole Resistance is out there, waiting to hear what we’re going to do.”

“What _are_ we going to do?” Cisco asked worriedly.

“We’re going to find out where they took them,” Oliver said tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

They had been awake since three in the morning. They had woken to the news that the MRA was liquidating the slums and relocating all the remaining metahumans.

“They knew about the bomb,” Henry said seriously, “They had to have known. That’s why they moved them so suddenly. They made their move before we could.”

“How’d they find out?” Iris asked nervously.

“Hundreds of people knew about it,” Oliver pointed out, “It could have gotten leaked in any number of ways. We should have done it right away and not given the MRA time to hear about it and to act first. We should have done it right after my speech yesterday.”

“Right now, I’m more concerned about finding out where they took Barry,” Joe said seriously.

“Felicity’s tracking the trucks,” Oliver told them, “It’s too late to intercept them. They’ve been in route for almost two hours now. We can’t stop them, but at least we’ll know where they’re going. Felicity said they’re heading towards Coast City.”

“Of course,” Joe said, his eyes going wide.

They all looked questioningly at him.

“That one woman,” he said, “When we were first starting the Resistance, she said she lived in Coast City and that there had been MRA activity there for weeks. No one knew what they were doing, though.”

“They were building a new zone,” Iris said darkly, “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said, “But we’re going to find out.”

“I say we just go through with our original plan,” Wally said, “Who cares if it’s in a different location? We’ll just take over the new zone instead. Nothing has changed.”

“ _Everything_ has changed,” Oliver said seriously, “We don’t know anything about this new zone like we did the old one. We don’t know what kind of security they have in place. We don’t know the layout of the zone. We don’t know anything about it aside from the fact that it’s in Coast City.”

“So what do we do?” Caitlin asked.

“We’re going to use _you_ ,” Felicity said as she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

They all stared at her.

“What?” Caitlin asked in confusion.

“The trucks just reached Coast City,” Felicity told them, “There _is_ another zone there, with another wall and increased security. Oliver won’t be able to get inside to scout it out.”

“So what are we going to use _me_ for?” Caitlin asked incredulously.

Felicity smiled at her.

“The MRA is looking for _doctors_ ,” she said seriously, “They’ve been recruiting doctors in Coast City for weeks.”

“What for?” Joe asked confusedly.

“I don’t know,” Felicity answered, “But this is the perfect chance for us to get someone on the inside, to see what’s going on. Caitlin could sign on as a last minute recruit. We have to act fast, though.”

They all looked at Caitlin then.

“I’ll do it,” she said surely, “I’ll leave for Coast City right away.”

* * *

Barry’s legs were shaking uncontrollably from standing this long. They had been in the truck for over five hours, three of which the truck had been parked in the same place. He wanted nothing more than to just sit down. Hell, he would have been happy just to be able to walk around a little. Standing in one awkward position for five hours was _painful_. The only comfort he had was Elizabeth standing at his side. The others were somewhere else nearby in the dark truck.

“What’s going to happen?” Elizabeth asked him tearfully, “Where did they take us?”

“Shh,” Barry said, a lump growing in his throat.

He pulled Elizabeth closer to him, and she buried her face in his shoulder. Barry rested his chin on top of her head.

“We’re going to be okay,” he said, “As long as we stay together. I’ve got you.”

 _We’re just going to a different place for a little while_.

Another hour passed meticulously slowly. Just when Barry was starting to think he was going to collapse from standing for so long, the door to the truck suddenly opened, rousing them all from their stupor.

“Everyone out!” an officer ordered, and they all clambered weakly out of the truck, blinking their eyes against the bright sunlight that was being reflected by the snow on the ground.

They weren’t given much time to adjust before they were all being shouted at to move. As a group, everyone that had been in the truck was ushered forward towards a building, just like the groups from the other trucks. They all looked around as they walked. There were multiple buildings surrounding them, most of them only one story, but a few having two. What was most noticeable, however, was the wall.

They were in another metazone.

Shoes squeaked loudly on the cement floor as they entered the large building they were ushered to. It was a large empty space and seemed to be almost like a warehouse of some kind. There were other groups in different parts of the warehouse as well, each of them surrounded by officers.

“Clothes off!” a woman officer shouted suddenly at them, “Remove _all_ articles of clothing! Officers will come around and collect any valuables!”

Barry’s hands shook uncontrollably as he unzipped the zipper on his sweatshirt. Were they crazy?! It was freezing in here! He had a lump in his throat as he pulled his dirty, stained T-shirt over his head. Goosebumps covered his entire body, but Barry hardly paid it any mind. He was used to being cold now, and what bothered him more was the situation. As he removed his shoes and stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving him fully naked, Barry had never felt more dehumanized in his life.

He felt a cold hand rest on his upper arm and Barry looked around. Elizabeth was standing there, also fully undressed now. Tears filled her eyes as she rubbed Barry’s shoulder comfortingly. Neither of them looked down. They kept their eyes locked with each other’s, both providing silent comfort.

Barry suddenly felt an officer roughly grab his arm and spin him around.

“Watch,” he demanded harshly, holding out his hand.

Barry nodded. He shakily took off Oliver’s fifteen-hundred-dollar watch and handed it to him. He was extremely relieved now that he had gotten Joe’s watch back to him. He didn’t know what he would have done if he had still had it on him. Would he have given it up without a fight?

“You can’t have it!” Barry heard someone shout, and his heart sank instantly.

It was Felix’s voice.

“I won’t give it up,” Felix sobbed, “Please! I can’t!”

BANG

Barry looked away and squeezed his eyes shut tight as he heard Felix’s body hit the floor with a thud. The gunshot echoed loudly throughout the warehouse, and with each echo, the moment replayed itself over and over in Barry’s mind as tears ran down his face. Elizabeth had moved towards him and was now burying her face in his bare shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay,” Barry soothed, his voice cracking painfully as he wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair.

They hardly even thought about the fact that they were both naked. They were too devastated. Barry opened his eyes just in time to see an officer stoop down and pull Felix’s wedding ring off his finger. A sob escaped Barry’s throat, and he took a shuddering breath as he held Elizabeth in his arms, trying not to cry. Trying to be strong for her.

“Everyone line up!” an officer screamed at them, “Form a line!”

They all scrambled to do as he said, and Barry forced himself to move with the rest, pulling Elizabeth along with him. They all quickly formed a line, and once they were in order, the line moved forward. They were ushered to a different area of the warehouse. When they all came to a stop, the line remained stationary for a moment. Barry couldn’t see what was at the end of it, but soon the line was slowly inching forward again, one person at a time.

As they got closer to the end of the line, Barry quickly realized what it was for. A man stood at the end of the line, an electric razor in hand. As each person reached the end, he would quickly and roughly bring the razor to their heads. Hair covered the floor more and more with each person that the stepped forward for their turn.

“Next!” the barber called flatly.

The woman in front of Barry stepped forward, and the man didn’t hesitate to start hacking away at her hair. The woman sobbed horribly the entire time.

“Next!”

Barry stepped forward, a lump in his throat. He kept his face smooth and emotionless, though, as the man roughly ran the electric razor over his scalp, shaving away Barry’s poorly cut hair. Barry’s hair fell to the floor at his feet, and his stomach churned each time the razor ran over his head. He didn’t cry. He didn’t react in the slightest. He just kept his face flat until the barber was finished.

“Next!”

Barry stepped forward to join the rest of the people who had already been shaved. Some of them were crying and running their hands over their scalps. Others, like him, stood stone-face and silent. Barry was proud when Elizabeth joined him next, not a tear on her face. She was so strong. Adam and Kathy finished quickly, too, and they both moved to stand next to Barry and Elizabeth. Kathy’s eyes were far away. She wasn’t crying, but…she didn’t seem like she was entirely there anymore. She was no doubt still in shock from Felix’s sudden death. They _all_ were in shock, but Kathy had been closest to the older man.

Looking around him, Barry now felt like just another metahuman. He didn’t feel like him anymore, like a person. It was like he was in a herd of cattle. He was just a number now, not Barry Allen. He didn’t have a name anymore. He had no hair or clothes—no sense of dignity or humanity. He didn’t have anything but a barcode on his wrist and a microchip in his spine. He was nothing now.

They were all sprayed down after that. The officers took a hose and sprayed them down with icy water, washing away the filth covering them. Barry was dizzy and shivering uncontrollably as they were then led to a different part of the warehouse. As they moved in a single file line to the next station, a group of people came into view. They were all wearing white lab coats and had stethoscopes around their necks. They were doctors. Barry knew then.

They were going to weed out the weak.

* * *

Caitlin’s stomach was churning. It had been all morning, ever since she arrived at the Coast City MRA base. She had examined countless metahumans already, and she had to fight to control the tears in her eyes as she worked. It would be a bit of a giveaway if she burst into tears while examining somebody.

Really, she wasn’t doing that much. A nurse could have been doing the job she was doing. She was signed on as a last-minute recruit, so most of the jobs had been taken. She simply had to take down notes and occasionally take a few blood pressures. The lead doctor was doing most of the examining part.

As their previous group of metahumans moved on, a new group took their place. They walked in a single file line, like all the others had. Caitlin looked frantically down the line in search of Barry, pausing on each face she looked at. She was afraid she was going to miss him. She had to keep remembering what he looked like now—what she had seen in the vibes—and not search for the Barry she knew, the healthy version of him.

Caitlin’s heart leapt when her eyes landed on a familiar face. Barry was walking in with the next group of metahumans. His face was the only part of him that was still recognizable, and if Caitlin hadn’t been vigilantly looking for him, she probably would have missed him. He didn’t look like Barry anymore. He looked like everyone else in the line. The metahumans were all identical. They all were naked and thin, with shaved heads. Upon seeing Barry, it reminded Caitlin that _all_ of these people were individuals. They might all look the same, but each person standing in the line was _somebody_. They each had their own lives and families. They were people, not cattle. Not numbers.

People.

Barry hadn’t seen her yet. He was looking at the floor as the line came to a stop. The metahumans all stood side by side in the line, all facing forward. When Caitlin looked closer, she could see that Barry was holding hands with the naked woman next to him. The woman looked vaguely familiar, and Caitlin wondered if she had seen her in one of Cisco’s vibes. It was hard to tell, now that all their heads were shaved. Barry then said something to her, but Caitlin couldn’t make out the words from where she was standing.

Caitlin watched in confusion as Barry suddenly brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on one of his fingers, hard enough to draw blood. It wasn’t until Barry started spreading the blood on his cheeks that Caitlin realized what he was doing.

He was trying to make himself healthier.

Caitlin felt a sickening weight settle in her stomach at she watched him do the same for the woman next to him.

Guards moved down the line, pushing people into position so that the line was straight, yelling at all the metahum—at all the _people_ to face forward. A guard paused in front of Barry. Caitlin sucked in a fearful breath when the guard suddenly grabbed Barry’s arm.

“You’re not supposed to have this,” the guard said angrily, gripping Barry’s arm, “We said remove _all_ articles of clothing.”

Caitlin couldn’t see what the guard was talking about from where she was standing, but the guard’s arm suddenly moved, yanking on something, and little, pink beads suddenly scattered across the warehouse floor. Barry let out a small sob but didn’t move or say anything as the guard then continued down the line. Barry stared at the plastic beads all over the floor, tears rolling down his face. The woman next to him grabbed his hand again, trying to comfort him as he cried silently.

Caitlin had to look away then. If she continued to look at Barry, she would start crying, and she already had a painful lump in her throat. Caitlin swallowed back the sob threatening to escape her as she then moved with the head doctor to the end of the line, to examine the first person in the line of metahumans. Caitlin took notes as the doctor did his examination. Really, all she had to write down was the metahuman’s ID number and check a box. Very rarely were there ever any additional notes to write down. The MRA didn’t care about keeping a record of their vital signs.

It was just pass/fail.

Every time a person was declared unhealthy, Caitlin had to fight back the tears in her eyes as she checked the ‘fail’ box next to their number. She tried not to watch as the person was escorted away by officers to be taken to the firing squad waiting outside the warehouse. When they worked their way down the line, Caitlin’s heartrate started to pick up as they got closer to Barry. She could hardly hear past her own heartbeat when she put her stethoscope in her ears to take blood pressures. It didn’t matter, though. She always lied about the numbers anyways. Anything she could do to check the “pass” box on her clipboard.

Barry was looking down at the floor when they stopped in front of him. The doctor put a hand on his chin and forced him to look up. Barry glared at him, but the doctor was unaffected as he forced Barry’s mouth open without hesitation and used a tongue depressor to look in it.

“His teeth are good,” the doctor said in a bored voice, “His lips and gums are a bit pale, but the rest of his color looks good.”

He removed his hands from Barry’s face and then felt for his pulse at his wrist. It was then that Barry turned his head, and his eyes finally landed on Caitlin. His eyes widened and then filled with tears as soon as he recognized her. Caitlin gave him a watery smile, but there was no happiness in it. Her eyes conveyed nothing but sorrow for him. Barry’s lips twitched slightly but quickly returned to his previous frown. He sucked in a shaky breath and looked away from her. Caitlin knew why. He didn’t want to give her away, and if he kept looking at her, he would probably burst into tears.

“His pulse feels weak and thready,” the doctor sighed, releasing Barry’s wrist.

Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat.

“Most of them do,” she pointed out.

The doctor grunted absently and pulled out his stethoscope. He pressed the diaphragm to Barry’s bony chest, and Caitlin held her breath as he listened.

“He’s tachycardic,” the doctor sighed, replacing his stethoscope around his neck.

“Everyone’s heartrates are fast,” Caitlin said quietly, “The stress.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard some dysrhythmia, though,” the doctor said, shaking his head.

He then pulled out a penlight to check Barry’s eyes.

“Pupils are slightly constricted but normal bilaterally,” he muttered before moving to inspect the rest of Barry’s body.

He took a step back and looked Barry over.

“He has a lot of scars,” he said thoughtfully, “But they look well-healed. He doesn’t show any signs of infection.”

He pressed his hands on Barry’s chest, sliding them over his shoulders to then palpate his arms. Barry stayed still and his expression remained hard as he let the man assess him. Caitlin could hardly look at him. Barry was _skeletal_ now. There wasn’t a single part of his body that didn’t look atrophied and emaciated. Even his face looked gaunt. The small amount of muscle that Barry’s body had managed to maintain was minimal.

“He’s thin but still has some muscle tone,” the doctor said before moving down lower, stooping down to assess Barry’s more personal areas.

Barry clenched his teeth and looked up towards the ceiling. His face was flushed slightly in embarrassment, but his expression looked more angry than anything else. Caitlin didn’t watch what the doctor was doing, trying to give Barry any privacy she could.

“Other than his heart, he seems to be in decent health,” the doctor said as he stood up again, “If he didn’t have that heart dysrhythmia…”

“Mind if I listen?” Caitlin asked quickly, trying not to sound too panicked.

If she didn’t do something, Barry was going to fail the health exam.

“Go for it,” the doctor sighed, clearly bored.

Caitlin stepped forward and nervously pulled out her stethoscope. She made brief eye contact with Barry before pressing the diaphragm over his heart. She listened carefully to Barry’s fast heartrate, wanting to hear it for herself, even though she was going to say she couldn’t hear anything either way. Sure enough, Barry’s heartbeat did sound irregular. It seemed to skip every sixth beat or so. Caitlin’s stomach was churning as she shakily removed the stethoscope from his chest. She looked nervously back at the head doctor.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said quietly.

The doctor shrugged then.

“I may have imagined it,” he said boredly, “It’s hard to hear when all their hearts are beating so fast.”

Caitlin nodded silently, feeling her anxiety lighten slightly.

“Very well then,” the doctor sighed, “If his blood pressure’s good, then he should be able to work.”

He then moved on to examine the woman next to Barry, leaving Caitlin to get Barry’s blood pressure. Caitlin gave Barry a sad smile as she pulled out her blood pressure cuff. It was a child sized cuff, and she was sad to see that it fit Barry’s thin arm perfectly, just like everyone else’s.

“We haven’t forgotten about you, Barry,” Caitlin whispered quickly under her breath as she wrapped the cuff around his arm.

Barry gave her a watery smile as she inflated the cuff. He didn’t say anything. It was too risky for them to say much to each other with so many people around. Caitlin hoped her presence still comforted him, though.

“Caitlin,” Barry whispered quickly to her when she finished taking his blood pressure, “Caitlin, make sure she passes.”

His eyes flitted over to the woman next to him, who was still being examined, and Caitlin understood.

“Make sure she passes, Caitlin,” Barry whispered urgently, his eyes filling with tears.

Caitlin nodded. She gave his arm a reassuring pat after removing the blood pressure cuff from it.

“Be strong,” she whispered tearfully.

Barry nodded and gave her a sad smile before Caitlin moved on to the woman next to him.

It took them another half hour to get the rest of the way down the line. Caitlin fought back her tears every time someone failed the exam, and she saw tears rolling down Barry face by the time they were finished. The guards then stepped forward and started pulling people from the line, separating the men, women and children. Caitlin felt like she had been punched in the gut. She should have warned Barry that this part was coming. She couldn’t stop the tears from finally forming in her eyes when she saw the look of devastation on Barry’s face as the guards started separated everyone in the line.

Barry lunged for the woman standing next to him, wrapping his arms around her. They both had tears rolling down their faces as they hugged until a couple officers approached them and roughly tore the two apart. Barry was sobbing as the officer pulled him away from the woman whom he clearly cared deeply for. A single tear escaped Caitlin’s eye, and she brushed it away quickly before anyone else saw. As the officer led Barry to the group of men, Barry shouted something to the woman that Caitlin would never forget.

“I love you!”

* * *


	30. The Flash

**Sorry, this took a bit longer. I got some pretty negative reviews on my last chapter and was somewhat discouraged, to be honest.**

**To those who were upset by the last chapter, I apologize. I’m not putting warnings on everything, simply because I’ve already put multiple warnings on this story, and pretty much every chapter should have a warning. This entire story is dark, and I’ve said multiple times that it’s only going to get darker as you read it. I’m truly sorry that people are upset. If it helps, I’ll be more careful about warnings, but really, every chapter is going to have a warning now then.**

**Also, this isn’t a romance story. Yes, there are hints of romance in it, but this isn’t about Barry and Elizabeth at all. In fact, Elizabeth is hardly mentioned in the rest of it. So for those of you who are angry about the romance, you don’t have to worry about it. This is a story about Barry. I keep my stories Barry-centric, and I only put in the Barry-Elizabeth arc because a lot of people requested it.**

**Warning: Violence; Nudity; Mass-murder; Questionable Suicide**

* * *

**The Flash**

* * *

Barry’s back ached and he was covered in cold sweat as he worked. The cold November air caused the sweat on his body to freeze and made him go back and forth between shivering and sweating. That part of it was almost more exhausting than the actual work. Barry’s hands were covered in blisters, and it was painful just to grip the shovel, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He had to keep going.

Barry lifted the bottom of the shirt of his gray uniform and wiped his face. The older man who was digging near him paused, too, and set down his shovel.

“What are you doing?” Barry asked him, his eyes wide, “Pick up your shovel.”

“I just need a minute,” the man breathed, wiping the sweat from his face as he sat down on a mound of dirt.

Barry quickly spun around and nervously scanned the area for officers.

“ _Get up_ ,” Barry hissed at the man, “You have to get up!”

The man sighed and looked sadly at Barry, still breathing heavily.

“I can’t, kid,” he said defeatedly, “I just c—”

BANG

Blood and brains sprayed all over the dirt and snow surrounding them. Barry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused all his attention on not vomiting right then and there. He reopened his eyes to see a guard standing above him, looking down into the ditch they were digging.

“Anyone else need a break?” he asked, holding up his gun.

Barry, along with all the other men in the ditch, shook his head. He gripped his shovel tighter, even though it caused his blistered hands to throb, and he resumed his digging as the officer walked away. He didn’t look at the body of the old man on the ground. He couldn’t stomach it. He had been working silently alongside the man for the last three days, ever since they had gotten here. He didn’t even know the old man’s name. No one really exchanged names with each other at this point. Everyone just kept their mouths shut and did their work. The only person Barry knew was Adam, who was working a few feet away from him.

“Idiot,” Adam muttered, looking at the body on the ground, “Why the hell would he sit down? He knew they would shoot him.”

“Because he gave up,” Barry whispered quietly, staring at the end of his shovel as he scooped up another shovel-full of dirt.

Adam shrugged and went back to work. Barry knew Adam wasn’t really as unaffected as he seemed. He was just acting nonchalant so it wouldn’t hurt as much, as if pretending he didn’t care would make him _actually_ not care. Anything he could do to make it less painful. Barry coped similarly. He didn’t say insensitive things like Adam did, but he numbed himself to it, too. He did his best to think about other things while he worked, rather than think about the body lying in the ditch next to him.

Instead, Barry thought about the trench they were digging. It was supposed to be for water runoff for when the snow melted. That way, the work camp they were in wouldn’t end up getting flooded in the spring.

Barry just couldn’t stop thinking over the logistics of it in his head as he worked, though. It didn’t make any sense. They weren’t on a hill. The trench they were digging would do nothing for water runoff. Also, the trench was way too big for its purpose. It wasn’t necessary to make it eight feet wide. A couple feet would have sufficed. And why were they doing this now? Spring was months away, and they would have had plenty of time to do it before then. Why dig a trench when the ground was frozen? That was just foolish. None of it made any sense.

Barry suddenly went white as a sheet, suddenly struck by a horrible thought.

“What is it, Barry?” Adam asked, seeing that Barry had stopped digging, and was standing there with a horrified expression on his face.

“This…” Barry choked in a strained voice, “This isn’t a trench.”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked, “What else would it be?”

Barry gave him a pained look. It was better not to tell him. Barry could hardly bear the truth of it himself. He didn’t want to burden anyone else with the horrible idea. Adam seemed to suddenly understand, though, as he looked around him at the ditch they were digging.

“It’s a grave,” he said quietly, looking fearfully at Barry, “This isn’t a work camp.”

Barry shook his head darkly.

“It’s a death camp.”

* * *

“I’m telling you, you can’t just force your way into the camp,” Caitlin said angrily, “It’s too heavily guarded.”

“We’ll take out the guards,” Oliver insisted, “We’ll fight them.”

“Oliver, I was _there_ ,” Caitlin said in frustration, “I was inside the camp. I saw the security they have in place. You lead a bunch of civilians in there, and they’ll all get slaughtered. We don’t have enough people!”

“We have half the country on our side, though,” Iris said desperately, “We have more than enough.”

“We have their _support_ ,” Joe corrected gently, “But we don’t have them to fight. A lot of people may support the Resistance politically, but unless they have a loved one in there, most of them aren’t willing to risk their lives to stop this.”

“I don’t know what more we can do to convince people,” Oliver said angrily, “We can broadcast all the videos we want. It’s not going to get people to step up. We need something else to motivate people to fight.”

“I’m sick of advertising!” Iris said angrily, “I’m sick of trying to convince people to join us. I want to start _doing_ something!”

“I agree with Iris,” Caitlin said sadly, “After everything I saw in that place, I don’t want to let more weeks go by as we try to get more Resistance members. We need to get Barry out of there. He doesn’t have much time.”

“Well, you’re the one who says we can’t do it by force,” Oliver pointed out impatiently, “So what are you proposing we do, Caitlin?”

Caitlin sighed.

“I think we need to find a way to take it down from the inside,” she said slowly, “We need someone on the inside to find a way to take the MRA down.”

“But they wouldn’t let you keep working for them,” Wally said to her, “They only wanted the military doctors to stick around.”

“I’m not talking about me,” Caitlin said, “I think someone else should try to infiltrate the MRA.”

“Who?” Joe asked, “None of us can go in. We’re not doctors, and we’re not military. I’m a cop, so maybe they would have accepted me as an officer, but they definitely won’t now. They know my connection to Barry. They know I’m family.”

Joe’s eyes widened then as he was struck by a sudden thought. They all stared at him as he whipped out his phone.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked him.

Joe held up a finger and pressed the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to pick up.

“Hey,” he said quickly into the phone, “Can I meet with you? I need to talk to you about something.”

There was a slight pause and then Joe spoke again.

“Yeah, it’s about Barry,” he said urgently, “Can I stop by in twenty minutes? It’s important.”

Joe smiled as the other person spoke on the other side of the phone.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, “Thank you so much! I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Who was that?” Felicity asked as Joe hung up the phone, a satisfied smile on his face.

“David Singh,” he answered seriously, “I’m going to convince him to go undercover as one of the MRA.”

* * *

It was another two days before the ditch was fully finished. Digging it had been a morbid task, especially once Barry had had the realization of what it was really for. He had thought the work would be over once the ditch was finished, but they were rewarded with only more work, and the new job they were given was ten times worse than the first one.

They were given the job of filling it.

Trucks pulled up alongside the ditch, all of them filled with bodies. Barry had the morbid task of unloading the bodies from the truck and throwing them into the ditch. He had tried to be respectful at first. He had walked each one down into the mass grave and set them down gently, but not only was that method exhausting, it also angered the officers who yelled that he wasn’t working fast enough. Barry soon had no choice but to toss the bodies unceremoniously into the grave.

And he felt sick to his stomach the entire time.

It started with the children. Every child metahuman in the camp was killed on their arrival. Every single one. Barry found himself somewhat grateful that Lucy hadn’t made it this far. She would have suffered for nothing. He never thought there would ever come a day where he would see a _positive_ side to Lucy dying when she did, but now he couldn’t help but be relieved. Other children weren’t so lucky. They had suffered for months and struggled to survive for this long for nothing, as did all the other people who were killed when they reached the camp. Their fate had been decided by a two-minute health exam.

Barry’s heart ached for the dead, but at the same time, he envied them. The nightmare was over for them. They didn’t have to suffer anymore like he did. They didn’t have to stick around to see this ugliness, to see the aftermath of the slaughter.

They were free.

Barry knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be one of these bodies being tossed in the pile, and the person handling his corpse would be just like him, just another nameless meta doing his work and trying not to think about it. Barry felt guilty for being grateful that the bodies were thin and light. It made them easier to lift and maneuver. He was just waiting to see somebody he knew. He was waiting to see Elizabeth or Kathy appear in one of the piles. Would he even recognize them, though? Most of the time, Barry didn’t look at the faces of the dead. Most of them weren’t even recognizable in this state. The bodies were all in various stages of decomposition.

Some of the bodies were strange, though. The lesion-like marks that covered some of them didn’t look like normal signs of decomposition to Barry. He had seen enough bodies through his CSI work to know what a normal body looked like, and these were not normal bodies. Many of them showed major signs of illness, which really wasn’t that surprising, considering how a lot of people were sick here, but they weren’t how he would expect normal sick people to look. The lesions on their bodies showed signs of healing, indicating that they had gotten there _before_ the person died. Whatever it was that had caused them, it wasn’t decomposition. It was whatever illness they had been inflicted with. It was something like Barry had never seen before.

“Stop!” one of the officers ordered suddenly.

Barry removed his hands from the body he had just been about to unload from the truck and stepped back. He was used to this order by now. Once a day, the officers would shout at them to stop and a group of doctors would come forward, looking through the group of men.

“Him,” one doctor said, pointing at the man standing next to Barry.

An officer stepped forward and grabbed the man he had pointed to. The doctors picked out several more men from the group before the officers shouted at them to start working again. As Barry grabbed the body of a woman and pulled her from the truck, he watched out of the corner of his eye as the officers led the group of selected metahumans away.

“What do you think happens in building four?” Adam asked Barry as they had left.

“I don’t know,” Barry muttered, staring after the retreating group of doctors, “But it isn’t anything good.”

* * *

Everyone sat in silence as they waited in Henry’s living room. Joe’s knee was bouncing continuously, Felicity was tapping her fingers impatiently on the end table, and Wally was nervously biting his nails. The others all sat in anxious silence. The waiting was the worst part.

They all jumped and leaned forward in their seats when they heard a knock on the front door. Henry jumped up from his seat and quickly moved to open it.

“It’s done,” Singh said as he walked into the house, “I’ve officially enlisted in the MRA.”

“Did they accept you?” Joe asked nervously.

Singh nodded, a small smile on his face.

“I’ve been the captain of the CCPD for almost ten years,” he said, “Of course they accepted me.”

They all sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” Joe said gratefully, “Thank you so much for doing this, David.”

“Of course,” Singh replied, “It didn’t take much convincing on your part. I’ve been wanting to join the Resistance since it was started. I just couldn’t because I would have lost my job. I was more useful to the cause when I had control of the CCPD.”

Joe nodded.

“I understand,” he said seriously, “How have things been at the CCPD?”

“It’s been a mess,” Singh sighed, “Ever since Barry and Liddell were taken and you went on leave, everyone else has been leaving the force, too. None of them wanted to do Price’s bidding. The CCPD has been in Price’s pocket from the very start of this whole thing, and the only reason I stuck around there was so I could control things. Now, who knows who’s going to take my place now that I’ve enlisted?”

“It’s for the better,” Joe assured him, “You’ll be able to do more for the Resistance by infiltrating the MRA. I promise.”

Singh nodded.

“I shouldn’t stay here long,” he said nervously, “I can’t let anyone find out I’m in contact with you. They’ll think something’s up.”

“Go,” Joe said understandingly, “Don’t contact us unless you absolutely have to. Just update us if you manage to gain any information.”

The captain nodded.

“We’ll get your son out of there,” he said, looking at Joe and then Henry, “I promise.”

With that, Singh turned and exited through the front door, as quick as he had come.

Everyone let out sighs of relief.

“Let’s just hope he manages to get us some intel fast,” Oliver said seriously, “We can’t afford to waste any time.”

* * *

Barry’s feet and back ached as he and the rest of the men walked back to their lodgings for the night. The sun was just starting to set, and they all were dead tired. It was always a relief to be done working for the day. Barry, as well as the rest of them, looked forward to the time of the day they got to go back to their unit to rest. The wooden bunks they crammed together to sleep in were far from comfortable, but they were usually so exhausted, it made the hard wood feel like a tempurpedic bed.

“Hold up!” one of the two officers leading them shouted, stopping their progression.

Adam groaned.

“I hate when they do this,” he whispered angrily to Barry.

The officers did this all the time. As they were leading the group from one location to the next, they would often stop the entire group just so they could stop and talk to other officers who were passing by. Barry waited impatiently for the officers to finish their conversation. He just wanted to get some sleep. He was tired, hungry, and his entire body was sore and aching. Standing here, waiting to be led back to their lodgings was downright miserable. Barry’s impatience only intensified when the four officers started laughing. Clearly, their conversation wasn’t very important and was just a social exchange. Barry looked away from them, not caring to witness their social hour. It was then that something else caught his eye.

Just twenty yards or so away from them, a group of officers were exiting a small office building, turning the lights off as they left. Barry stared at them as they walked away, disappearing around the corner of another building. He looked back at the office building then. He had seen officers go in and out of the small, one-story building continuously throughout the day, but he had never seen it empty. He had never seen it with its lights off. As Barry looked closer at the building, he noticed all the powerlines running to it. A few of them weren’t powerlines, though. They were phonelines.

The building had internet.

“What are you thinking, Barry?” Adam asked worriedly.

Barry looked at him and saw that Adam had been watching him. He had clearly seen the wheels turning behind Barry’s eyes.

“I’m thinking we need answers,” Barry said softly, staring at the building again, “I’m thinking that I’m tired of just doing nothing while this is happening to us.”

“Don’t do it,” Adam said seriously, “I mean it, Barry. Don’t be stupid.”

Barry gave him a pained look.

“You don’t have to be a hero,” Adam whispered, “You don’t have to be the Flash. Just be Barry Allen. _Please_.”

Barry’s hands tightened into fists. He looked back at the officers who were still standing there, talking, and then looked at Adam again.

“Barry Allen _is_ the Flash,” he said firmly.

And with that, Barry bolted. He felt Adam try to grab his arm to stop him, but he slipped free from his grasp and ran to duck behind the corner of a building. Barry breathed heavily, his heart racing, as he pressed up against the building and looked around. There weren’t any guards in sight. They were in the middle of a shift change for the evening.

After making sure the coast was clear, Barry rushed towards the office building. To his luck, he found the door to be unlocked. Although it was convenient, it also wasn’t a good sign. It told Barry that there was a good chance the officers weren’t done with the building for the night and that the next shift’s officers would most likely be showing up soon.

Barry slipped into the office unseen and closed the door behind him. He didn’t turn on the lights for obvious reasons, so the room was dark. The only source of light in the small room was the computer monitor in the corner. Barry beelined for it. He had to act quickly. He shook the mouse on the computer, and the screen flickered to life. Barry was immediately faced with a user login that required a password.

He didn’t waste any time trying to guess the password. Instead, Barry logged in under administrator and quickly opened a command prompt window. He didn’t need a password. All he needed was basic hacking skills. Barry typed frantically on the keyboard, his heart pounding the entire time.

**WMIC**

**QUIT**

**NETSH WLAN SHOW PROFILES**

Only two profiles appeared on the screen.

_MRA OFF_

_PRICE ADMIN_

Barry stared at the two accounts before deciding quickly which one to hack into.

**NETSH WLAN SHOW PROFILES PRICE ADMIN**

Barry waited anxiously as the computer loaded the account information. Multiple networks appeared on the screen, and once the computer finished loading, Barry was quick to enter in the last code.

**NETSH WLAN SHOW PROFILES PRICE ADMIN KEY=CLEAR**

As the computer loaded for what felt like years to Barry, but was really only a couple seconds, Barry thought he heard voices outside the small office. He looked nervously at the door. No one came in, though, and Barry quickly looked back at the computer again, just as the code finished loading.

_PRICE ADMIN_

_SECURITY KEY: ad maius bonum_

Barry rolled his eyes. Of course the bastard would choose that as his password. Barry quickly entered the security key into the computer and pressed enter. He was in the system now. The first thing Barry did was hack into the security system administration. He erased all the security footage from the last four hours, and a smug smile formed on his face as he uploaded a virus onto it to crash the entire system. The MRA was blind now. Every security camera in the camp was wiped and disabled.

Barry was then free to browse through the files in the private network. He immediately set to trying to find the command center for the microchip devices. If he could get into the system, he could maybe find a way to turn the microchips off.

He could get his powers back.

Barry’s heart raced as he searched through all the files and programs. Price certainly hadn’t made it easy, though. All of the files had code names, most of them in Latin. Barry knew only basic Latin root words, so he didn’t know what a lot of the file names meant, but he paused when he came across one particular file.

_Ad Maius Bonum_

It was the same as Price’s network password. His curiosity peaked, Barry clicked on the file and quickly started reading the information that came up. His eyes widened as he read.

It wasn’t about microchips.

“Oh, my God,” Barry whispered as he perused the file.

This was big. What he had stumbled upon could change the outcome of this entire war. Barry felt sick to his stomach as he read through the file. He didn’t have time to read the whole thing, but he got the gist of it, and it made him sick. He needed to get this information to his team. They were the only ones who could use it to their advantage.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Barry cursed.

He couldn’t send it to them. The MRA had their own satellite, their network database being separate from everyone else’s to prevent hackers. Barry didn’t let that deter him, though. If he couldn’t send it to them digitally, he’d just have to find a way to get the file to them manually. Barry opened the desk drawer and started digging through its contents until he felt what he was looking for. He quickly moved to insert the jump drive into the USB port on the computer, his heartrate picking up as he fumbled to get it into the slot. He heard more voices outside, and he prayed that no one would come into the office.

At this point, he wasn’t so much concerned about himself getting killed. He was more worried about the information that would die with him were he to get caught. The voices drifted away, though, and Barry breathed again. He quickly uploaded a copy of the file to the jump drive and pocketed it.

He wanted more than anything to continue searching for the microchip administration program, but he couldn’t. Getting the jump drive out of there was more important, and spending the time to search the database wasn’t worth the risk. Before shutting down the computer, Barry’s last act was to upload a virus to MRA’s satellite. If he was lucky, it would cause the entire system to shut down, including the microchips. At the very least, it would cause a lot of technical problems for the MRA.

Barry was so caught up in shutting down the computer that he focused on little else but his task.

Which was why he didn’t hear the door open.

* * *

**Please don’t review just to tell me you’re quitting the story. I truly do understand why some people decide to stop reading, and I was expecting to lose some readers along the way. I just don’t need a review notifying me of it. Sorry, if I sound rude. I’m not trying to be dramatic. I just don’t want my motivation for this story to waiver because of a few reviews.**

* * *


	31. Red

**I’ll apologize now for the violence in this chapter. This chapter has probably one of the most violent scenes I’ve ever written—and if you’ve read my other stories, you know that’s saying something. I was going to tone it down a bit, but the violence was kind of necessary to get the full effect from the scene. It’s a very big moment for Barry and a pivotal point in the story, so I couldn’t really sensor it too much. It’s more emotional than it is sadistic, but it’s definitely gory, so I had to say something about it before you read it.**

**Warning: _Very_ , very graphic depictions of violence; Nudity**

* * *

**Red**

* * *

The lights in the small office suddenly flickered on, and Barry’s heart stopped.

He quickly spun in his chair and saw the officer standing in the doorway, staring at him. The man was young, in his early twenties maybe, around Barry’s age. He had sandy blonde hair and wore a clean cut MRA uniform. He stared at Barry with a blank look on his face. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. The officer reached back behind him for the door knob and slowly closed the door, his eyes not tearing away from Barry.

“Please,” Barry said brokenly, his small voice cracking slightly.

The young officer stared at him as he slowly took a step forward, his boots thudding loudly on the floor. Barry’s heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest.

“What are you doing in here, meta?” the young man asked quietly.

“Please,” Barry said again, closing his eyes.

It was all he could say, all that would come out of his mouth. He tried to think of a smart excuse for him to be there, but his mind had gone blank with fear, and all the could come out of his mouth was that one word. Barry reopened his eyes to look at the officer, pleading silently. The officer was just standing there, considering him with a blank look on his face.

“Come with me,” he whispered after a moment.

Barry rose from the chair on shaky legs, and slowly walked towards the door. The officer continued to stare blankly at him as Barry walked past him and exited the office building.

“Around the corner,” the young officer said in a hard voice once they were outside.

“Please,” Barry said again as he walked alongside the building, the officer behind him.

“Just walk,” the officer said quietly.

Tears formed in Barry’s eyes as he walked around the corner of the building. He could hear the officer pulling out his gun behind him. Barry’s heart was just fluttering at this point. He was going to die.

“On your knees,” the young officer ordered shakily once they had walked a ways around the corner to a dark, secluded spot.

The sun was down now, and the only light was a small light attached to the side of a nearby building. Barry slowly sank to his knees on the snow-covered ground, his entire body trembling with fear.

He heard the click of the officer’s gun behind him, and Barry let out a shaky breath, tears rolling down his face. He was going to die. This was it. After everything he had been through, he was going to die behind the chemical sheds in an MRA camp. He was going to be killed not by the Reverse Flash or by Zoom or any other Flash villain. He was going to be killed by some twenty-year-old MRA officer.

“Please,” Barry choked, one last time.

Barry felt the barrel of the gun press to the back of his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He hadn’t even accomplished anything. He hadn’t even managed to get the information to his team. He was going to die with the jump drive in his pocket. He was going to die for nothing. Barry thought of his family, about the promise he had made to them, the promise to stay alive. He had promised Oliver he was going to be smart, and then he had gone and done the stupidest thing he possibly could, and it was all for nothing. He was dying for absolutely nothing but his own stupidity. He thought about what Adam will say when doesn’t make it back tonight.

_Idiot._

He thought about Elizabeth and how, if she made it through all of this, it would only be to learn that he had died, that he had been just one of the many metahumans who had gotten to their knees and waited to have a bullet pass through their brain.

Barry thought about all of this as the end of the gun pressed against the back of his head.

His eyes suddenly snapped open. What had Joe always told him? Only a fool held a gun within reach when they were pointing it at someone. _Action was faster than reaction_. Barry refused to die like this. He refused to die just kneeling here, waiting to be shot. He wasn’t going to die without a fight.

In a single movement, Barry spun around and grabbed for the gun that was being pressed to his skull. He didn’t need his speed to do it. His movement caught the officer by surprise so much that he hadn’t even had time to pull the trigger before Barry was already knocking the gun out of the young officer’s hands. The small handgun landed some distance away in the snow and the officer’s eyes widened in shock. Barry had only a small moment of triumph before the officer was suddenly lunging at him, wrapping his hands around Barry’s throat. Barry was thrown backwards, sent sprawling on his back as the officer moved on top of him, squeezing his throat with all his strength, choking the life out of him. Barry couldn’t overpower him. He was probably only a hundred pounds right now.

But damn did he still have some fight in him.

The two of them thrashed around in the snow, Barry struggling just to get a breath in. He clawed viciously at the young officer’s hands, but his grip didn’t loosen. Barry reached out desperately in the snow then, feeling for something, _anything_ , he could use as a weapon. His hand suddenly closed around something heavy and solid, and Barry didn’t hesitate to grab it and swing his hand up towards the officer’s face. He made contact. The officer was suddenly knocked off him and landed in the snow next to him. The officer made to grab him again, but Barry raised the large rock up and slammed it down on the officer’s head again with a loud thump.

He gripped the rock with two hands and immediately raised it up and brought it down again. And again. He didn’t stop. Rage and adrenaline coursed through Barry’s bloodstream like lightning, his hatred for the MRA driving him to keep bringing the rock down on the officer’s head.

Thump.

This was the man who had tortured him in that MRA facility.

Thump.

He was the man who had pulled Barry from his home and loaded him in that truck.

Thump.

He had starved him, shot at him, and taken away everything that made him human.

Thump.

He had done this to him, to all of them.

To Lucy.

Barry’s hands were wet and sticky now as he gripped the rock tightly between them. He no longer heard any noise coming from the man underneath him. No dull grunts or gasps of pain. Just silence. Yet he still continued to raise the rock up, bringing it down again and again, until his shoulders ached and the blows were no longer meeting any resistance. The rock was now making impact with a soft, wet mass on the ground.

Only then did Barry stop. His entire body was shaking harder than he could ever remember it shaking in his life. For a moment, time froze and he wasn’t in the camp anymore. He was home, sitting on his living room couch, his mother dabbing his face with a wet washcloth, wiping away the blood.

_You have such a good heart, Barry, and it’s better to have a good heart than fast legs._

Barry was kneeling on the ground in the snow, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he sucked in sharp gasps of air. The rock slid from his hands and landed in the crimson snow with a thud. Barry sucked in a painful breath as ice flooded his veins. A wail of agony threatened to escape him, but no sound came out. Everything was red. His hands were red. His clothes. The snow.

The world.

It took a while for his vision to clear, for everything to stop being red, and when it did, Barry looked down in horror at what he done. He collapsed in the snow, tears streaming down his face as he looked at man he had killed, at what was left of him. Blood soaked the snow, the brilliant crimson looking violent in contrast with the pure white. As Barry looked down at what he had done, at what his own two hands had done, he felt bile rise in his throat.

He hunched over on the ground as his stomach heaved. Nothing came up, but his stomach still continued to contract over and over again. Barry wrapped his arms around himself, sobbing and dry heaving in the snow.

He had killed someone.

He looked down at the officer again. Where his head once was was now just a mess of blood and hair. He prayed that Cisco wasn’t watching now, that his family would never see this, would never know what he had done. Even though it was still pounding wildly, Barry’s heart felt like it had stilled in his chest.

He had killed someone.

All the blood was overwhelming. His arms and face were covered in it, and as soon as he realized it, all Barry could think about was getting it off of him. Barry instantly plunged his hands into the snow and started scrubbing them desperately. He did the same with his face, sobbing and crying the entire time. He needed to get it off of him. He couldn’t get any air into his lungs, and his breathing was loud and panicked as he desperately tried to wash the blood from his body, scrubbing frantically as tears streamed down his face. His mind thought back to his mother, dabbing the blood from his face with a wet washcloth. What would she say if she could see him now?

Barry’s heart ached with both horror and rage.

The MRA had done this to him. They had driven him to this, had made him into one of them. He was a murderer now. They had taken away everything that made him human, and now Barry felt as if he had just lost the small sliver of humanity he had left. And it was from his own doing. This was something that _he_ had done, that he had been forced to do. He hadn’t even been conflicted about it. He had done what needed to be done without a second thought, and now that it was over, the gravity of his actions were crashing down on him like tidal waves, again and again, the same way the rock had been brought down over and over again.

He had killed someone.

Barry wasn’t sure how long he sat in the snow before the world finally came back to him, but eventually his mind somewhat cleared, and he was forced to move into action. He couldn’t sit here all night, dwelling on the _murder_ he had just committed. He had to move.

He shakily stood up from the ground, his clothes soaked with blood and melted snow. Barry wanted nothing more than to flee, to run away from what he had done, from everything, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave the body here for someone to find. They would look for a culprit.

Barry shakily walked over to where the officer’s gun laid on the ground. He stooped down and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was the gun that had nearly killed him. The bullet in its chamber had been only seconds away from unloading into his brain. Barry stared at it numbly for a moment before tucking it into his pants. He then turned to look at the man on the ground again.

He had killed someone.

Barry had to fight down nausea as he stooped down next to the body. He gripped the man’s shoulders and pulled his torso upright so he could remove his jacket. Once it was removed, Barry quickly wrapped the jacket around what was left of the officer’s head. Not only was it easier for him to have it covered, but it would also keep the blood trail to a minimum as he then started to drag the body through the snow. Barry gripped the man’s ankles and pulled.

The man was heavy, a lot heavier than the bodies Barry usually lifted and maneuvered all day, but the adrenaline still coursing through his bloodstream spurred him to keep going. He dug down deep to access any strength his weak body had left to accomplish the task, his desperation driving him. Tears streamed endlessly from Barry’s eyes as he moved. He just hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone. If he ran into another officer, he would either have to kill them, too, or he would die, and he would have taken a life for nothing.

He had killed someone.

Barry’s mind was in a fog yet somehow clear at the same time. He felt numb, but he somehow knew exactly what to do. It was like his body was in autopilot as it dragged the officer to the pit. It was the only place that Barry could think to hide him. Barry released the officer’s legs as soon as he had dragged him down into the ditch, where the rest of the bodies were. His mind was in a haze as he then set to work removing the officer’s clothes. His movements were steady, almost robotic, as if he was being controlled by someone else as he removed every scrap of material from the man’s body. He rolled the clothes up into a ball once he was finished, setting them aside as he then moved to shift the bodies surrounding the man.

The officer was too clean—too healthy looking. He didn’t blend in with the others in the pit. So, Barry maneuvered the corpses until the officer’s body was no longer visible, until he was covered by the dead that he and Barry had both helped put there. Barry did the same with the clothes, stashing them deep within the pile of corpses, where they were no longer visible. He considered getting rid of the gun, too, wondering if it was too risky to keep it—if he were caught with it, he would surely be killed—but he quickly decided that it was too valuable to give up. He had a _weapon_ now. He had something no other metahuman in this place had.

A way to fight back.

 When he was finished stashing away the officer’s clothes and the rest of his belongings, Barry finally stood up and looked down at his work.

No one would ever be able to tell. The pit looked no different than usual. The officer’s body wouldn’t be found here. He would rot here along with the very people he had helped to murder. Barry felt both satisfied and sickened by the idea. He was sickened by the fact that he had contributed to the mass grave by adding his own victim to it, and at the same time, he was sickened by the thought that the grave of innocent soles was now tainted by the officer’s presence. He didn’t deserve to be buried here with the rest of them. The innocents that had the misfortune of having this horrid pit as their grave didn’t deserve to be buried alongside one of their murderers.

Barry wasn’t able to dwell on it for long, though. It was only a matter of time before somebody found him here. He was surprised he hadn’t run into another officer. Even as he moved away from the ditch and started making his way through the camp, he didn’t see a single officer. It was strange. Barry kept his eyes peeled the entire time, but he also couldn’t help but look at the ground. He had done everything he could to keep the blood trail to a minimum, but there was still a fairly clear trail made from where he had dragged the body through the snow.

He wasn’t too worried about it, though. There was blood in the snow almost everywhere you went here. It was common for metahumans to be walked around the corner of any building in the camp and be shot, the same way he almost had been. Barry doubted whether anyone would find the blood trail suspicious. Nobody would look twice at it.

His clothes were covered in blood, but that also wouldn’t be extremely suspicious considering the fact they were _always_ covered in blood and filth. He moved bodies all day. Barry was usually covered in blood most of the time. No one would know that the blood covering him now was more than just the blood of the innocent.

Humans and metahumans both bled red. There was no difference.

Barry quickly but stealthily made his way through the dark camp. As he got closer to one area of the camp, he suddenly heard shouts in the distance. He froze in his tracks when he suddenly heard two _very_ close voices speaking to each other. They were talking just around the corner from the building he was walking next to. Barry pressed his back up against the building and prayed they wouldn’t round the corner and find him. He pulled the gun out of the band of his pants and flipped the safety off. He hoped they wouldn’t come his way. He didn’t want to kill another person tonight. He didn’t want to kill another person ever again. Just the thought of having to do it all again brought tears to his eyes, the gun shaking horribly in his hands, as he listened to their conversation.

“What’s going on?” one man’s voice asked frantically.

“We all have orders to take our posts at the wall,” another man answered urgently, “The entire security system’s down. Captain Taylor thinks we’re being attacked.”

“Is it the Lucy Resistance?” the other asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” his fellow officer said quickly, “I just know we’re supposed to report to the wall to secure the perimeter of the camp.”

As the two voices drifted away, Barry understood then why he hadn’t seen any officers. They thought the camp was under siege from the Resistance. Barry was extremely glad now that he had thought to wipe out the security system.

Once he was sure that the two officers were gone, Barry quickly continued on, sledging through the snow to get back to his unit before he ran into anyone. He kept his gun drawn the entire time, safety off and ready to shoot. Barry’s heart raced as he made his way into the metahuman area of the camp, the area where all the lodging units were. Really, the units were more like barns or large sheds. They didn’t have electricity or running water. They didn’t even have doors.

Like the rest of the camp, the area didn’t have a guard in sight. It was usually heavily guarded, but the usual officers were now absent. They were all posted at the wall, preparing for an attack that wouldn’t come.

Barry felt like he could finally breathe again when he thankfully passed through the doorway of his own unit. He shoved the gun back into the band of his pants and collapsed to his knees on the floor. He placed a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath. His chest ached horribly, and his heart was pounding painfully beneath his ribcage. It worried him slightly. He knew his heart wasn’t working properly anymore. He had seen it on Caitlin’s face when she had listened to it.

He didn’t worry about it much, though, as he looked around the dark room, at the rows of long, wooden bunks filling the space. Everyone in the unit was out cold, all of them dead tired from working all day. They were all sleeping soundly.

All but one, of course.

“Barry?” Adam’s voice whispered in the dark.

Adam was then suddenly in front of him, crouching down in the doorway next to him.

“I’m okay,” Barry gasped, still catching his breath, “I made it back.”

Adam suddenly shoved Barry, and he fell back and hit the frame of the door with a loud thud.

“What the fuck?!” Adam hissed at him, whispering angrily, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch! What the hell were you thinking?! Why do you always have to be a damn hero?!”

“I had to,” Barry breathed, straightening up on the floor again, “I had to take the risk.”

Adam shook his head and glared at him.

“Did you find anything?” he sighed after a moment.

Barry nodded, his eyes darkening.

“Did you find out what’s happening in building four?” Adam asked urgently, still whispering.

Barry nodded again and then looked around the dark room. Everyone was asleep, but Barry didn’t want to risk being overheard.

“Come with me,” he whispered, grabbing Adam’s arm and forcing both of them to their feet.

He pulled Adam along with him to exit the lodging, but Adam yanked his arm out of Barry’s grasp.

“Are you crazy?!” he hissed, “I’m not leaving the unit!”

“There are no officers,” Barry assured him quickly under his breath, “They’re all…preoccupied. Now, come on!”

He pulled Adam out of the unit then, and the two of them ducked around the corner of the small building, out of sight. There, they crouched down on the ground again, now in a place where no one in their unit could overhear them and no stray officer could see them.

“What’s happening in building four?” Adam asked immediately once they were away from prying ears, “And what do you mean, the guards are preoccupied?”

“I crashed their security system,” Barry told him quickly, “They think they’re all under attack right now, so they’re all posted around the wall.”

Adam nodded but still looked around them nervously.

“So what did you find out about building four?” he asked seriously then.

Barry’s eyes darkened.

“It’s not just a building,” he said darkly, “It’s a lab.”

Adam’s eyes widened.

“A lab?” he asked, “What for?”

“What do you think?” Barry said obviously, “So they can experiment on us. It’s all part of Price’s plan.”

“What’s Price’s plan?” Adam asked quietly, his eyes wide.

Barry sucked in a breath and then slowly shook his head.

“I didn’t get a chance to read the whole file,” he said quietly, “But I have the information.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Barry pulled out the jump drive.

“I stored the file on this,” he whispered, “It has everything we need to take down Price. This is Price’s blueprints to his entire plan. Everything we need to finally end all of this could be in this one jump drive.”

Adam stared at him in disbelief.

“Okay, so what now?” he asked seriously, “What the hell are we going to do with a jump drive?”

Barry shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “We need to find a way to get this to the Resistance somehow.”

Barry tucked the jump drive away and then bit his lip.

“I have something else,” he whispered.

Adam’s eyes widened when Barry pulled out the gun.

“How did you get that?!” Adam asked incredulously.

Barry looked down at the ground.

“It…it was in the office,” he lied, his voice wavering slightly, “I found it in a drawer.”

He didn’t know why he was lying. He knew Adam of all people would understand. He knew Adam would say that Barry did what he had to do, that he had had no other choice, that it had been his life or the officer’s. Maybe that’s why Barry didn’t want to tell him, though. He didn’t want to hear Adam say those words. He didn’t _want_ to be comforted for what he had done. He didn’t want to have it justified by someone else.

“What are you going to do with it?” Adam asked excitedly.

“I don’t know,” Barry whispered, “I’m not even sure if it was a smart move for me to keep it.”

“Of course it was!” Adam said seriously, “Barry, this is _huge_! We have a way to protect ourselves now! We have a way to fight back!”

“It’s one gun, Adam,” Barry said quietly, “It’s hardly going to do anything against an entire army of MRA soldiers.”

“Still, though,” Adam said seriously, “It’s something. It was definitely a good idea for you to keep it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Barry sighed, moving to tuck the gun away.

“Wait,” Adam said, stopping Barry from putting it away.

He gave Barry an uneasy look.

“Could you…?” he said nervously, “Could you show me how to use it? I…I’ve never fired a gun before.”

Barry looked unsurely at Adam for a moment, not sure if he should show him or not. He didn’t want Adam to do anything reckless.

“I don’t know, Adam,” Barry said slowly, looking down at the gun in his hands.

“It’s because I’m young, isn’t it?” Adam asked angrily.

Barry sighed and gave him a pained look.

“Fuck you, I’m twenty years old,” Adam said, crossing his arms, “I can handle it.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything reckless,” Barry said gently.

“Reckless like sneaking into an MRA office?” Adam asked seriously.

Barry sighed. Adam had a point. Over the last three months, he had shown to Barry that he was careful. He took everything seriously and never took any unnecessary risks. He may be young, but he was no kid. Adam was a man, and just because he reminded Barry of Wally in a lot of ways, it didn’t mean he was as impulsive as Wally. He was remarkably mature for his age.

“Okay,” Barry whispered, “I’ll show you.”

Adam nodded in satisfaction, and Barry sighed as held the gun up then.

“It’s a Walther P38 pistol,” he explained, “They started making them in Germany in 1938, and it’s still used by most militaries today. It’s double single action and is magazine fed, so it—”

“What does that mean?” Adam asked seriously, “Double single action?”

Barry sighed. Adam clearly didn’t know _anything_ about firearms.

“It means you can shoot it two different ways,” Barry explained patiently, “You can cock the hammer back manually to chamber the round, which makes for less resistance on the trigger, or you can just squeeze the trigger and it will fire automatically but with more resistance.”

Adam listened with rapt attention, determined to learn everything, as Barry explained how the gun worked. Barry showed him how to turn the safety on and off and how to load and unload it, emphasizing the importance of always checking the chamber of the gun and how removing the magazine didn’t unload the bullet that was already inside the chamber.

“I’m only telling you all of this, Adam, in case you ever need to use it,” Barry said seriously when he had finished explaining how the gun worked, “I need you to promise me that you’ll only use it if it’s absolutely necessary.”

Adam nodded.

“I promise,” he said seriously.

Barry stared at him, considering him for a moment. Barry could tell. Adam meant it.

“We’ll keep it hidden then,” Barry said, “It’s too dangerous for either of us to carry it on us.”

“What if something happens, though?” Adam asked seriously, “What if something happens, and we’re not able to retrieve it?”

“It’s too risky,” Barry sighed, “If either of us gets caught carrying it, he’ll be killed. It’s less practical, but it’s safer to keep it hidden somewhere.”

Adam sighed and nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered.

The two of them then stood up from where they had been crouched on the ground. They looked around nervously, making sure the coast was clear before they moved back around the side of the building and returned to their unit. Barry hid the gun under one of the floorboards in the corner of the unit before the two of them finally climbed into one of the wooden bunks.

The other men in the bunk groaned in irritation as they were forced to make room for them, but they were too tired to protest. The bunks were crammed, and they all had to sleep on their sides, pressed up against each other, just to fit. It was incredibly uncomfortable and extremely frustrating because if one person turned over, they would all have to turn over. No one ever really complained about being crammed together, though, because if it weren’t that way, they would all probably freeze to death during the night. The people on the ends had it the worst, really.

As Barry laid, crammed into the bunk between two other men, his mind unwillingly started to go over the night’s events. His body was exhausted beyond belief, but his mind wouldn’t allow him the relief of sleep. He had killed someone tonight. He had bashed another man’s skull in with a rock. He had dragged the corpse through the snow and thrown it into a mass grave to rot.

Less than an hour ago, he had really _killed_ someone.

Barry saw the officer’s young face every time he closed his eyes. He wondered what the man’s name was. He wondered if he had a family. He _must_ have a family, people who will be missing him when he didn’t come home tonight. Barry thought about the way the young man’s voice had wavered when he told him to get down on his knees. The way his hands had shook.

The man hadn’t wanted to kill him.

He was going to—Barry didn’t have a doubt about that—but he hadn’t _wanted_ to.

As Barry closed his eyes, his ears were filled with the dull thumping sound of the rock being brought down over and over again, of the softs gasps and groans that escaped the young man’s mouth with each blow.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Barry took a deep breath and then tried to think about something else, _anything_ else. He tried to think of his family, something that he normally tried hard _not_ to think about but usually failed miserably at. He thought about Joe and Iris and Wally. He thought about his father and Team Flash and Elizabeth.

But his mind didn’t fill with the same bittersweet memories that normally played out in his head as he was trying to fall asleep. Instead, all he could think about was what they would say, how they would react if they knew what he had done—if they knew he was a murderer.

Barry bit his lip to hold back the sob that desperately wanted to come out of him. He didn’t want anyone else in the dark to hear his sorrow. Sobs always filled the dark unit at night, but he didn’t want his to be one of them. He didn’t want Adam, who was lying right next to him, to hear it. Adam wouldn’t judge him. He wouldn’t even mention it if he heard him. Barry had heard Adam crying during the night more than once over the last three months he had spent with the guy, and just about every man in this room had broken down and cried at some point. No one ever judged each other one bit for it. Still, Barry didn’t want his cries to be heard by any other person here. This was _his_ pain to bear, _his_ burden to carry.

The blood was on _his_ hands.

Barry let his mind drift to the jump drive and everything he had read on the file that was now in his pocket. He hadn’t told Adam everything. He had told him about the lab, but he had lied when he said he hadn’t read anything else on the file. He didn’t want to tell Adam the awful truth of what was really going on in this death camp—the real reason they were here.

He just prayed he’d be able to find a way to get the jump drive to his team fast. They were the only ones who could do anything with it, with the shocking truth about Clinton Price—who he really was and what his plans really were with all of this. It was bigger than Barry could have ever imagined.

This whole thing was about far more than just metahumans.

* * *


	32. Officer Singh

**Warning: Implied Death**

* * *

**Officer Singh**

* * *

“These are the male meta lodging units,” the older officer told him, “It’s where the metas sleep. Female lodgings are on the other side of the camp. We usually keep both areas well patrolled at night.”

“Where are the metahum—the metas now?” Singh asked curiously.

“Working,” the officer said simply, “Labor hours are five AM to seven PM. Female metas work in building two, removing and sorting clothes from the deceased. Male metas work on the west side of the camp over there, depositing the corpses in the waste pit. That’s where you’ll be stationed. You’ll be one of our male labor supervisory officers. It’s an easy job, really. All you have to do is make sure they keep working and dispose of anyone who’s slacking or slowing the process down.”

Singh nodded, a twisting feeling in his gut.

“It’s a good thing you’re here, too,” the MRA officer said as they continued to walk through the camp, “One of our officers has failed to show up the last two days. He left town. Captain Taylor’s assuming he’s a deserter.”

“A deserter?” Singh asked curiously.

The officer nodded.

“Not all MRA officers are like you and me, Singh,” he said seriously, “A small portion of these guys here didn’t volunteer to serve for the MRA. They were in different branches of the military reserves and were stationed here without much of a choice. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a deserter flee from his duty.”

“Have there been a lot of deserters?” Singh asked curiously.

It was interesting to see all of this from the MRA’s side.

“There were more in the beginning,” the older officer said as they walked, “Back when the Meta Regulation Agency was first established. Most of the people who are here now have stuck around by choice. Most of us understand that we’re just doing what needs to be done. We’re purging the country of this meta plague before it has a chance to spread.”

“Does it ever bother you?” Singh asked quietly, “What you’re doing?”

“Of course,” the officer answered simply, “It bothered me more at first, but over time, you start to get used to it. In the beginning, it was harder, because they look so much like people, but with time and experience, it becomes easier to remember that they’re _not_ people. Not anymore. It’s sad, what they’ve become. I _do_ feel somewhat bad for them. They used to be human, just like us, after all. Harrison Wells is really the person to blame in all of this. Him and that damn particle accelerator of his.”

Singh nodded silently, his stomach churning horribly as he listened to how this man had come to justify his actions over time, how he had numbed himself to the horrible things he and his fellow officers were doing to these people—these _people_ , whom they no longer even remotely saw as human.

“This is our officer’s office,” the older man said, as they paused in front of a small building, “You’re welcome to use the space on your breaks to get out of the cold, but you won’t have access to the computers. Lower level officers like yourself aren’t permitted to access our database. You’ll have to ask a higher ranking officer if you need to use the computers for any reason. You can’t right now, though. Our system was hacked into two days ago, and we haven’t been able to get it up and running properly ever since.”

Singh’s heart leapt.

“Someone hacked it?” he asked, “Who?”

It wasn’t the Resistance—Singh knew that. Who else could have done it then?

“We’re assuming it was the Lucy Resistance,” the officer said seriously, “They got into the system, but because we have our own satellite, it’s unlikely they were able to access any data. There are no traces of the data being transferred to an any unauthorized server. Still, they managed to upload a virus into the security system. All our surveillance cameras were fried.”

“What about the microchips?” Singh asked quickly, “Are they still working?!”

The other man nodded.

“They’re still dampening the metas’ powers,” he assured him, “But our perimeter precautions have been compromised.”

“What does that mean?” Singh asked, his eyes widening.

“It means the metas can leave the camp,” the officer said gravely, “They won’t be automatically terminated if they breech the wall now.”

Singh’s heartrate picked up instantly.

“But don’t worry,” the officer said quickly, misreading the look on Singh’s face, “We’ve doubled the security around the camp now. No meta can possibly get out. They wouldn’t dare try to anyways. All the metas still think they’ll be electrocuted if they set foot outside the camp.”

“That’s…good,” Singh muttered, his mind racing.

This was huge. This piece of information could be _extremely_ useful to the Resistance.

As they were walking away from the office building, Singh stared at it thoughtfully. If he could get in there and get on those computers maybe he could do what the mystery hacker couldn’t. Maybe he could access the MRA’s files. He was doubtful, though. He knew _nothing_ about hacking, and the system was down now anyways. Singh’s stomach sank as he realized he would probably never be able to get his hands on those files.

“I’ll show you to your post now,” the older officer said to him as they walked away from the office building, “The male metas have already been working there since five this morning. They tend to start slowing down this time of day, so it’s the perfect time for us to change shifts, get some fresh officers in there to speed them up.”

Singh covered his nose and had to repress the urge to gag as they got closer to the west side of the camp.

“You’ll get used to the smell,” the other man assured him, as they walked and the ‘waste pit’ slowly came into view.

It was a horrible sight. Naked bodies were all piled on top of each other in the ditch. Men. Women. Children. They all laid out, exposed to the weather where they decomposed in plain sight.

“They’re metas,” the officer reminded him quietly when he saw the sad look on Singh’s face.

Singh quickly rearranged his facial expression.

“Right,” he grunted, “Sorry.”

“It’s easy to forget at first,” the other man said understandingly, “You’ll get used to it.”

Singh’s stomach twisted. He would _never_ get used to _this_. How could _anyone_?!

The pit ran along the west outskirts of the camp, spanning the length of at least two football fields. Trucks were parked alongside it, and men wearing filthy gray uniforms were all working to unload bodies from the backs of them. Singh immediately started scanning the edges of the pit, looking at the face of each man who was working, looking for Barry. He didn’t see him anywhere, but he had to be somewhere nearby.

“So,” the other officer said, coming to a stop, “Like I said, your job is pretty simple. You just have to patrol along the pit, make sure everyone’s working. If you see anyone slacking, dispose of them. I know you’re new and don’t have any military experience, so if you don’t quite have the stomach for it yet, you can always ask one of the other officers to do it for you until you feel comfortable using your gun.”

Singh nodded, his stomach churning at the thought of shooting any of these people.

“We discourage all our officers from interacting with the metas more than necessary,” the older man said seriously, “We don’t talk to them. Doing so instills a sense of equality in the metas, and they start to step out of line.”

“You don’t want to give them the illusion that we’re equals,” Singh summarized quietly.

The other nodded.

“We need to keep them in their place,” he said firmly, “It’s extremely important for maintaining order, and we take it very seriously. I’ve seen more than a few guards with this job get restationed somewhere else simply for talking to the metas too much. The MRA takes it all very seriously.”

Singh nodded seriously.

“Do you have any questions about the job?” the other man asked then.

Singh shook his head slowly.

“It’s pretty straightforward,” he whispered.

The officer nodded and then put a hand on his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said, “They’re just metas. They’re not human, even if they look like it.”

Singh nodded silently, his mouth dry. The other man released his shoulder and smiled at him.

“Welcome to the MRA,” he said simply before turning and walking away.

Singh felt as if a brick had settled in his stomach. He put his pistol in its holster and took a deep breath before walking towards the edge of the pit. The men who were working there didn’t really spare him a second glance. In fact, they seemed to determinedly not look at him, as if they were afraid to. They tensed as he walked by them, but they never stopped working. They continued to unload the bodies from the trucks.

It was a morbid sight, and Singh had to repress the urge to gag as he watched the way they handled the bodies. It was like the bodies were simply objects, like bags of sand that simply needed to be moved. Singh supposed it was only inevitable that that’s what would happen over time, though. The workers would stop thinking about the horror of what they were doing and just focus on what needed to be done.

Singh looked down at his watch. It was ten AM. These men had been working for over five hours now, and they wouldn’t be done until seven that evening. With as thin and malnourished as they looked, Singh wondered how they managed to keep working. Really, though, they weren’t given much of a choice.

It was work or die.

As Singh patrolled along the edge of the pit, looking for Barry, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going through every man’s mind as he worked. Were they shuddering internally by what they were doing? Were they angry about it? Numb? Did they simply just think about other things as they worked with the bodies of their fellow victims?

Singh could only just begin to see now why the officers no longer saw these people as human. Just their appearance was unhumanlike, the fact that they all looked like each other. Shaved heads. Thin bodies covered in blood and grime from maneuvering bodies all day. Their blank expressions as they worked made them almost seem robotic in Singh’s eyes.

He felt sick to his stomach every time he walked past a group of workers and saw the way they tensed and sped up their work when they saw him. As the captain of the CCPD, Singh had always kept his employees on a tight leash and had enjoyed the level of respect he had gotten from them. There was something very satisfying about receiving that much respect from people. But this…this wasn’t respect.

It was fear.

And there was nothing satisfying about it.

Singh’s heart leapt when his eyes finally landing on a familiar face. Barry was working near the next truck that Singh was walking towards. Singh watched him sadly as he worked. He had seen the videos of Barry over the last few months, had seen how he looked progressively worse in each video the Resistance broadcasted, but seeing it in person was another thing entirely. It made all of this so much more real. Barry looked exactly like the rest of them—just another nameless meta. He didn’t even look like a _person_ anymore.

Just watching Barry made Singh nervous. His thin legs were shaky and unsteady as he worked, and he looked like he could collapse at any moment. Singh felt his blood boil as he thought back to what the other officer had told him that morning, that they only fed the metahumans once every other day. With that information in mind and seeing Barry now, Singh didn’t think Barry was going to last much longer here. _None_ of them were. Singh knew it, and the MRA clearly knew it. They had planned it that way. They had never had any intention of keeping these people alive. They were only keeping these ones alive so they could do their dirty work for them. They were keeping them alive for only one reason.

To work themselves to death.

A typhoon of emotions stormed inside him as Singh thought about it. Anger, sadness, disgust. His hands clenched into fists, and he fought back tears as he drew closer to Barry. He took a shaky breath and then tilted his uniform hat down, turning his face to the side so that Barry wouldn’t see him. He _did_ want Barry to know he was there, but he knew he couldn’t let him see him right now. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Barry. He didn’t know what he _could_ say in this situation. As much as he wanted to, Singh wasn’t here to simply comfort Barry. He was here to get information, and he couldn’t risk interacting with Barry right now. It would make the other officers suspicious.

Another officer nodded curtly at him as they crossed paths. Singh nodded nervously and continued walking. The other officers patrolling the ditch didn’t linger in one place for too long, and he couldn’t afford to either. Most of them only paused in their patrol to rest or to stop and watch a few prisoners work for a while before moving on. Singh paused and leaned against the side of the truck Barry was working at, acting as if he had stopped for a short rest.

Barry was working just a few feet away, but thankfully he hadn’t seen him. Most of the metahumans never looked at the officers, Barry included. He just kept working, a dull, sullen look on his face. Another younger man, who was working alongside Barry suddenly said something to him, and Singh strained his ears to hear his words.

“You’ve been quiet,” the young man said to Barry.

Barry glanced at the other man and then moved to grab another body.

“Everyone here is quiet,” he muttered in response, his voice hollow.

“You’ve been different ever since the other night,” the other man accused, “I can tell.”

Barry didn’t say anything in response as he carried a body over to the edge of the pit and tossed it in.

“Barry,” the young man said seriously, “What aren’t you telling me? How did you get those bruises? What else happened that night that you don’t want to tell me about?”

Singh couldn’t help but turn his head to see for himself, and he immediately noticed the bruises the other man was talking about. Barry’s neck was just one large bruise, the pale skin now varying shades of blue, brown, and yellow. What the hell happened to him?!

When Barry didn’t say anything, the young man continued to press.

“Barry, whatever happened to you, it’s clearly eating you up,” he said seriously, “You have to tell someone about it eventually, and I’m the only person you’ve got in here.”

“Adam, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Barry said shakily as he walked back towards the truck, “Besides, there are too many officers around.”

Barry looked up then and looked around nervously, and Singh’s heart leapt when Barry’s eyes landed on him. He quickly turned his head back the other way and tilted his hat more, but he had seen the look on Barry’s face, had seen the way his eyes widened.

Barry had recognized him.

After a brief pause, Singh soon heard footsteps crunching in the snow as Barry rounded the truck and started to walk towards him. Singh stopped trying to hide his face then. He turned his head and looked at Barry, and when he did, it felt like he had been punched in the gut. Barry’s face portrayed a plethora of emotions. Hope. Hurt. Anger. It was then that Singh realized that Barry might not know that he was on their side. A part of Barry must have thought he was a turncoat, that he had joined the MRA for real and was now one of the monsters who was doing this to him.

Singh wanted more than anything to tell him that that wasn’t true, but in that moment, two other officers were nearing them, and Singh didn’t have much of a choice. He started to walk back towards Barry, too, but when they finally reached each other, Singh walked right past him.

“Keep working, Barry,” he whispered quickly as he walked past.

He didn’t look back again as he continued walking. He didn’t see the look on Barry’s face, nor did he want to. He didn’t want to see Barry’s reaction to his words. What was Barry thinking? Did he think Singh was just another cold bastard like the rest of them? Or did he have enough faith in him to realize that Singh was only trying to protect him by not talking to him?

Singh felt tears burning in his eyes as he continued patrolling down the rest of the pit. This was so much harder than he thought it was going to be. His mission here was to get information, but he couldn’t just _ignore_ Barry. He couldn’t just leave him here like this. He couldn’t leave him to his death, especially now that he knew the truth—that the metahumans could leave the camp. Maybe he could find a way to sneak Barry out of here. Disguise him in an officer’s uniform or something.

Would it fool anyone, though? They checked everyone who was entering or leaving the camp, and the sad truth was that Barry probably couldn’t pull it off. He couldn’t pass for an officer. Not now. Even if Singh somehow found a way to smuggle Barry a uniform to disguise him, no one would buy it. Barry was a walking skeleton at this point. His hair was shaved short, and he still had a barcode on his wrist. He looked sick. If he tried to sneak out of here, he would be caught almost immediately.

It was an unrealistic plan.

Singh couldn’t stand the thought of Barry thinking he had betrayed him, though. Later in the day, when Singh passed by the place Barry was working again, Barry watched him as he walked past, and Singh gave Barry the most reassuring look he could. He tried to portray with his eyes that he was on Barry’s side, that he hadn’t betrayed him. His regretful expression could mean a lot of things, though. It could mean that he was on Barry’s side, or could mean that it wasn’t but he still felt bad about it.

Barry was smart, though. He had known Singh for years, and Barry had always seen only the best in people. He had always given people the benefit of the doubt, and Singh was relieved to see that this place hadn’t robbed Barry of that trait when Barry suddenly gave him a sad smile as he walked past.

Barry knew he was on his side.

The relief Singh felt at knowing this almost brought tears to his eyes. Barry didn’t think he was a monster. He trusted him.

There was something else in the look Barry gave him, though, as he walked past. It was a look of urgency. He was practically _begging_ Singh with his eyes to come over and talk to him, but he couldn’t. There were so many officers around, and Singh didn’t want to draw attention to the man. Still, though, the look on Barry’s face. It almost seemed like he had an important reason for wanting to get Singh’s attention.

The next time Singh passed, an hour later, Barry gave him the same look, and Singh knew for sure then. Barry wanted to tell him something. The other officers patrolling the area made that impossible, though. The intense look Barry kept giving him every time he went by quickly morphed into a look of frustration. Singh was equally frustrated. He wanted to hear whatever Barry had to say, but they couldn’t find the chance, and the more Singh lingered in the area, waiting for the coast to be clear so he could talk to Barry, the more suspicious he looked.

Some time, around noon, another officer approached Singh and stopped his patrol.

“The doctors are coming,” he said simply, and gestured for Singh to come with him.

Singh frowned in confusion as he followed the other officer. Doctors? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He found out rather quickly, though, as a group of people wearing white lab coats stepped forward and started pointing out different metahumans working near the pit. Singh watched anxiously as the men who were selected were then grabbed by some of the officers who had gathered there with him.

“Him,” one doctor said, pointing out a man.

Two more officers moved forward to grab him, and the man started screaming and crying.

“Please!” he begged, tears streaming down his face, “Please, just let me keep working! Pick someone else and let me work! Please!”

The two officers subdued the thin man easily and started dragging him along.

“Please!” the man screamed as they were moving away, “Please! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

The man’s screams echoed back at them as he was carried away, and Singh felt a lump form in his throat.

“Where are they taking them?” he asked the officer standing next to him.

“Building four,” the man replied tersely, “I think they’re finally starting to figure out what it’s for. It’s kind of obvious when the metas that go there appear in one of the trucks a few days later.”

Singh’s stomach churned as he watched several other people get selected. Not all of them cried and fought against the officers. Many of them remained silent. A few even looked somewhat _relieved_ that their time had come, and they walked calmly alongside the officers who were leading them towards their death.

“Him,” one doctor said.

Singh’s blood ran cold.

“Come on,” the officer next to him said, nudging him.

Singh followed shakily as they moved forward to grab the man the doctor had pointed to. Barry didn’t fight them. Tears formed in his eyes, but he didn’t say or do anything as Singh and the other officer each grabbed one of Barry’s arms. Singh’s heart ached horribly in his chest as they pulled Barry along through the snow. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just go along with this! He didn’t know what they did to the metahumans in building four, but he knew one thing.

It would be the death of Barry.

He was leading Barry towards his death.

He had to do something. He couldn’t just let Barry die. He couldn’t bring Barry to building four, whatever it was. Singh didn’t care if he had a mission or not. Right now, in this moment, his mission was to stop this from happening. His mission was to save Barry.

Singh’s hand slowly left Barry’s arm and moved to his belt, to where his P38 was holstered on his hip.

“Don’t,” Barry whispered, so quietly Singh almost wasn’t sure he had heard him.

Barry didn’t look at him. He looked straight forward, his head held high as he walked, his steps never faltering. Singh considered doing it anyways. He considered reaching into his hip holster, pulling out his pistol to shoot the other guard in the head.

Barry was right, though. He shouldn’t do it. What would that accomplish? He would be outed and caught by the other officers, and Barry would probably still be brought to building four. A brick settled in Singh’s stomach as he was forced to accept the horrible truth.

The mission was more important than Barry’s life.

In all the years Singh had known Barry, he would never in a million years thought that they would find themselves here, to a day and a place where Singh was now leading Barry Allen towards his death. Singh’s eyes swam with tears as they walked.

He held Barry’s arm loosely with one hand and rested the other gently on Barry’s shoulder. He rubbed Barry’s shoulder a little, not enough to be visible to anyone else, but hopefully enough to comfort Barry just a little as they led him towards building four.

Singh’s eyes burned with tears as they approached the building. It was the largest building in the camp, and Singh didn’t know what it was for, but he knew that it was more than just a building. It was more than just bricks and paint to them. Barry would die here. This would be the last place Barry will ever see. After everything he had been through, this gray, brick building would be the end of him.

It was more than just a building.

Before they reached the entrance of building four, Barry suddenly looked up. He tilted his head up and looked at the sky, seeing it one last time. A single tear trailed down Barry’s face, but his expression remained calm, much calmer than Singh, himself, was feeling at the moment.

“We’ll take him from here,” a couple guards at the entrance said as they approached.

Before they handed Barry over to guards, over to his death, Barry suddenly whispered one last thing to Singh, so quiet Singh almost missed the two words that Barry said under his breath.

“ _Exhaust pipe.”_

Singh didn’t know what it meant. Of all the things Barry could have said to him in that moment, that was far from anything Singh had been expecting. Barry didn’t look back again as the other officers led him into the building. Singh stared at Barry’s back as he walked away, but Barry didn’t turn his head. He looked forward, his head held high as he was led into the building. He faced his death with more bravery and honor than Singh had ever thought any man capable of.

Singh couldn’t see his face as Barry walked away from him for the last time.

But if he had, he would have seen the smile on Barry’s face.

* * *


	33. Ad Maius Bonum

**Warning: Implied Death; Human Experimentation**

* * *

**Ad Maius Bonum**

* * *

Singh hardly remembered the walk back to the pit. He walked in a stupor, his mind trying to process what had just happened. Barry was now as good as dead. Singh couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He, with his own two hands, had just led Barry Allen to his death. He hadn’t done anything to stop it.

Singh was still in a haze when he made it back to his post. He stood next to one of the parked trucks by the pit, hardly looking at the officers and working metahumans who walked past him. Why was he here again? Barry was gone now, so it all seemed so pointless. Singh looked at the face of a middle-aged man who walked past him, carrying a body. The man’s face was as blank as Singh’s mind. He was going to die here. They were _all_ doomed to die here. The metahumans knew it, the MRA knew it, and now, Singh knew it. Every person wearing gray that he saw today was going to die.

And soon.

Nothing could be done. There just wasn’t enough _time_. Within a week, _maybe_ two, the rest of these people, these human beings, were going to die. The Resistance needed to do something, and they needed to do it _now_. By the time they got a plan together and managed to overthrow the MRA, it would probably be too late for Barry, but they could still save the others. It’s what Barry would want them to do.

Singh kept thinking about that last moment, that moment he and Barry had had before they parted ways. Barry’s face had been calm and collected. His hands had been shaking terribly, but his face had revealed no fear. He hadn’t cried and begged like the some of the others had. He had said only two words.

_Exhaust pipe._

Singh’s eyes landed on the truck he was standing next to. His heart immediately started to race. Barry had been trying to tell him something. All morning, Barry had been trying to get the chance to talk to him, and when he had finally gotten the chance he had said only those two words.

Singh walked at a fast pace to get back to the area Barry had been working in, back to the truck that Barry had been pulling bodies from. The back of the truck was nearly empty now, and soon it would be leaving to retrieve the next load. When Singh rounded the truck, he came face to face with a young man, the same one he had heard talking to Barry before. The boy’s eyes were red and watery, and he had tear stains down his face. His wet eyes landed on Singh, and he gave him a doubtful look, as if he didn’t fully trust him the way Barry did.

Singh looked sadly back at him and nodded silently. The look they shared only lasted a moment before the boy turned away from him to deposit another body into the pit. Singh looked around him first before moving to the end of the truck, where Barry had been standing only a few minutes ago. There were a couple other officers in the area, all of them continuing to patrol the pit like always, as if they were completely unaffected by the fact that they had just led twenty-some people to their deaths.

Knowing he could be easily seen by one of the other officers in the area, Singh tried to look nonchalant as he dropped his keys on the ground next to the truck. He glanced around him as he stooped down to pick them up, right next to the exhaust pipe of the truck. Singh turned and tried to block his hands from view as he reached into the pipe. He hissed in pain as the hot exhaust fumes from the truck burned his hand, but he ignored it as he stuck his fingers into the pipe as far as they would go. The hot metal scalded his skin, but Singh didn’t remove his hand until he felt his fingers close around something. He didn’t look at the object, whatever it was. He quickly tucked it into his pocket, along with his keys as he stood up, his eyes watering in pain.

As Singh straightened, he saw the young man in gray staring at him. Singh kept his hand in his pocket and tightened it around the small object that Barry had left there for him. He nodded at the young man, and the kid’s mistrustful expression changed slightly. There was something in his eyes that made the weight in Singh’s stomach lighten slightly.

Hope.

Singh turned away from the young man then and walked away. He couldn’t linger there. He was lucky already to have not aroused any suspicion from the other officers. Singh waited until he was a good distance away, near the end of the pit, where there were less guards, before stopping to pull the object out of his pocket. His heart leapt when he opened his burned hand and saw what was in it.

It was a jump drive.

How had Barry managed to get a jump drive in this place? Where had it come from? What was on it?!

Singh’s heart raced as he returned the jump drive to his pocket. Whatever was on it, it had to be important. It had been Barry’s final act to make sure he had gotten it to him. This was why Singh was here, on this day, at this time. It was as if the universe had planned it this way. He had never really believed in fate before, but in this one moment, Singh didn’t have a doubt in his mind that fate existed, that some force in the universe had planned for him to be here, in the right place, at the right time, so he could be given this by Barry.

He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait the rest of his shift to leave so he could get the jump drive to the Resistance. If he had learned anything today, it was that time was short, and they couldn’t waste another moment to help these people. They didn’t have the time to spare.

“Officer,” Singh said, approaching the first officer he saw.

The young officer stopped and looked at him.

“I think I need to go home,” Singh said quickly, “I burned my hand on a muffler as I was closing one of the tailgates.”

He held out his hand for the other man to see. The officer winced in sympathy as he saw the blisters that were starting to form.

“You should go take care of that,” the officer agreed, “All these rotting corpses around, it’s bound to get infected here.”

Singh nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, “Will you tell the captain for me that I had to leave?”

The officer nodded.

“Of course,” he said, “You go ahead. Get that wrapped up. We have more than enough officers here already. I don’t know why Price has insisted on all this extra security here. We had half as many men running the zone back in Central City, and there were a _lot_ more metahumans then. Those bomb rumors really made him paranoid.”

“Yeah, I know,” Singh agreed, rolling his eyes, “It’s so stupid and unnecessary.”

Singh was quick to leave then. His heart was racing as he passed through the security check at the camp’s entrance. He was just thankful that they hadn’t found the jump drive on him as they searched him. They hadn’t searched too thoroughly. He was one of their own, after all.

As he slammed his car door and started the engine, Singh couldn’t help but hope that whatever was on the jump drive, it would help take Price down _fast_. If they acted quickly, maybe they would even be able to save Barry. That is, if he wasn’t already dead. Singh didn’t know what they did to the metahumans in building four, but maybe the jump drive would reveal that.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

* * *

Barry stood, stone-faced, in line with the other twenty-two men who had been taken. Some of the men were sobbing quietly. Others, like him, stood there silently, not letting their fear show. Although his heart was beating wildly in his chest, Barry somehow felt strangely calm. Calm maybe wasn’t the word for it. He felt…content. He had done what he needed to do. He had gotten the jump drive to Singh, and with it, the others would learn the truth and be able to put a stop to this whole thing before it even started. Price wouldn’t get to implement the next phase of his plan.

At least he was dying _for_ something. He wasn’t just playing the part of the victim. He wasn’t just laying down and waiting for them to kill him and everyone else. He had _done_ something.

He could die a hero.

He hoped Singh wouldn’t blame himself, hoped that the other man realized it had to be this way. If Singh had tried to save him, he would have lost his one chance to get information on the MRA. He probably would have been killed, himself, if he had gone and shot that other officer. And Barry would have still found himself here, in building four.

Barry just hope Singh had found the jump drive he had hidden. He was confident in Singh’s intellectual abilities, though. Singh would figure it out, and if he didn’t, then Adam would still find a way to give it to him. That is, if he decided to trust him or not. When Barry told Adam who Singh was and that he was undercover here to help them, Adam had been more than a little skeptical. He didn’t have the same faith in people Barry did, but Barry assured him that he knew Singh, had known him for years, and that Singh would never betray him like that.

He felt bad leaving Adam behind. The kid was alone now and would have to continue on without Barry by his side. But hopefully, he would live. If Barry couldn’t live to see the end of this, he hoped with all his heart that Adam would. He hoped Elizabeth and Kathy were still holding on, still fighting to survive to see a day when they were free again.

Barry was already free.

He was going to die here, yes, but he had already freed himself with his final act. He had done what he needed to do, and he would face his death with satisfaction. He would die in an MRA camp, in captivity.

But he would die a free man.

A scientist soon came down the line of men, holding a syringe. She started injecting each person with the substance it contained. Barry already knew what was in the syringe, and when she slid the needle roughly into his arm and pushed down on the plunger, he knew it was finally over.

He was going to die.

……

“Who is it?!” a deep voice demanded when Singh knocked frantically on the door of Henry Allen’s house.

“It’s me,” he replied quickly, “It’s David. Open the door!”

The door swung open almost immediately, and he came face to face with Joe.

“David,” Joe said in surprise, his eyes widening, “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be undercover right now.”

“I got some information,” Singh said quickly before walking into the house.

Joe closed the door behind him and everyone stared at Singh as he walked into the living room.

“Already?!” Iris said excitedly, “What info did you get?! Is it useful?!”

“I don’t know, yet,” Singh said, looking around the living room, “I need a computer.”

He held up the jump drive for them to see.

“It’s the MRA’s,” he said seriously, “I don’t know what’s on it, but it must be important.”

“What makes you say that?” Felicity asked, frowning, “It’s just a jump drive. It might be completely blank. What makes you so sure it’s important?”

“Because it was given to me by Barry,” Singh replied.

Their eyes all widened.

“How did Barry get it?!” Caitlin asked incredulously.

“I don’t know. He must have…”

Singh suddenly trailed off midsentence as he finally put two and two together.

“He’s the hacker,” he muttered to himself.

“What?” Oliver asked.

Singh looked excitedly at all of them.

“Listen,” he said seriously, “Two days ago, the MRA’s computer database was hacked into. They naturally assumed it was the Lucy Resistance who did it, but unless it really _was_ you guys and you didn’t tell me about it, I knew it had to be someone else. And now I know who. It was Barry.”

Their eyes all widened.

“Barry hacked into the MRA’s computers?” Iris asked in shock, “How?! How did he not get caught?!”

“I don’t know,” Singh said quickly, moving to sit down as Felicity handed him her laptop, “But let’s be thankful he didn’t and that he managed to get this. He must have taken a big risk to get it, but hopefully it was worth it.”

They all gathered around the computer as Singh inserted the jump drive. He handed the computer over to Felicity, and she opened the D drive. The drive contained only one file.

_Ad Maius Bonem_

“For the greater good,” Felicity muttered, her eyebrows furrowing at the title.

She didn’t hesitate to click on it, and soon, the file was opened.

“What is it?” Henry asked tensely.

“It’s…it’s a log of MRA orders,” Felicity said, scrolling through the file, her eyes widening, “Oh, my God.”

“What?” multiple people asked at once.

“Barry didn’t just hack into the MRA’s database,” she said quickly, “He hacked into Price’s _personal_ network. This file…it’s Price’s plans. For _everything_.”

“What does it say?!” Oliver asked seriously, looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, my God,” Felicity and Caitlin both said at the same time.

Everyone looked at the two of them in confusion.

“MARV-Ci67,” Caitlin muttered, “What does he plan to do with it?!”

“What _is_ it?” Singh asked impatiently.

“It’s a virus,” Caitlin said darkly, “A _horrible, deadly_ virus. It’s killed a lot of people in South Africa. It has a ninety percent fatality rate and is arguably the most deadly virus in the world.” **[1]**

“What does Price want with a virus?” Iris asked fearfully, “Why would he want to give metahumans a deadly virus when he can just kill them?”

“It’s not for the metahumans...” Oliver said slowly, “It’s for us.”

They all stared at him.

“What?” Wally asked.

“It’s for the general population,” Oliver said quietly.

“He’s right,” Felicity said fearfully as she continued to read through the file, “He has plans here to release the strain into the drinking water of at least six different counties in the area.”

“ _Why_?!” Singh asked incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Felicity said, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Because he’s _evil_ ,” Iris said bitterly, glaring at the computer.

Oliver shook his head.

“No,” he said darkly, “Evil or not, Price must have a reason for doing this. People don’t just do things for the sake of being evil.”

“Maybe he sees the entire population as being contaminated,” Singh said in disgust, “Maybe he wants to… _purify_ every county surrounding Central City that could have been affected by the particle accelerator.”

“It’s a good a guess as any,” Joe said heavily.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Caitlin said quietly, tears in her eyes, “The Marburg virus doesn’t have any cure, and it spreads quickly. If he unleashes it, it could cause a pandemic. He could spread and wipe out the entire _country._ Why on earth would he want to do that?!”

“He doesn’t,” Felicity said suddenly, staring at the computer screen, “He’s working on synthesizing an antidote.”

“How?” Henry asked seriously.

“He’s…he’s using the metahumans,” Felicity told them, “He’s injecting them with the virus, studying the way their antibodies react to it. He’s…”

“He’s experimenting on them,” Singh whispered, horrified, “That’s what happens in building four.”

He felt sick to his stomach. He had left Barry there, left him to be injected with a deadly virus like all the others. How was Singh going to tell the others about Barry’s fate?

“What does the virus do?” Singh asked quietly, turning to Caitlin, “Is it…Is it fast or…?

Caitlin shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“It’s gruesome,” she said morbidly, “This particular strain usually kills its victims within two days or so, but it’s a very _ugly_ two days. It quickly causes a hemorrhagic fever in its victims, causing all their blood vessels to leak. They literally bleed to death from the inside out. It’s a horrible way to go.”

Singh felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had left Barry to suffer a painful death. He was going to suffer for two long days before he finally died. And the worst part about it was that Barry _knew_. He had known what was going to happen to him, and yet he had still told Singh not to do anything to stop it. Singh would do anything to go back to that moment and stop it now, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything now. It had taken him two hours just drive back to Central City from Key Stone. Barry was probably already infected with the virus.

It was too late to help him.

“So Price is using the metahumans to find a cure,” Oliver summarized quietly, “All so that he can control a virus that _he_ plans to unleash?!”

“That seems to be his plan,” Felicity said seriously, “He must think there’s something special about the metahumans’ antibodies that he can use to create a vaccine.”

“But then why didn’t he just do that right away then?” Iris asked angrily, “He could have done that from the start, when he first started all of this. Instead, he tortured them and inserted microchips in them. Why go through the trouble of slowly exterminating them when he really just wanted to use them for his vaccine?”

“Maybe it was all a ploy,” Joe suggested darkly, “A distraction for the media to focus on, so no one would find out about his real plan.”

“No,” Oliver said firmly, “No, this wasn’t just a distraction. Price wants all the metahumans dead for some reason. I just don’t know what that reason is.”

They all felt sick to their stomachs at the thought, and Felicity started to look through the rest of the file, looking for more information, more answers. It seemed that with every question they answered, several more questions took its place.

“I don’t understand,” she muttered, as she read through a part of the file, “Why would Price want _that_?”

“Want what?” Joe asked.

“He has orders for a specific device to be made,” she said slowly, “He has scientists working on technology that will _conceal_ metahuman abilities.”

“Why would he want a device that hides metahumans?” Henry asked, “Isn’t he trying to _expose_ them all, not _hide_ them?”

“He only requested for one device to be made,” Felicity said quietly.

They all frowned in confusion, trying to understand.

Joe’s eyes widened suddenly, and they all looked at him when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“He’s a metahuman,” he said seriously.

They all frowned at him.

“What?” Wally asked.

“Clinton Price is a metahuman,” Joe said, his eyes wide, “He has been this whole time.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Henry said, “He _hates_ metahumans. He can’t possibly be one himself.”

“It makes sense, though,” Oliver said, frowning as he thought it over, “It makes sense why he would want a device made for him. It makes sense why throughout his entire campaign and even now, he hasn’t set foot in Central City. It’s why he’s been keeping his distance, using holograms and proctors to avoid coming here, so that people wouldn’t find out.”

“What’s his power then?” Joe asked seriously, “If he’s a metahuman, what powers does he have?”

“He might not have any,” Felicity pointed out, “He could be a type two.”

“I highly doubt that,” Oliver said darkly, “A man with this much ambition to seize power must have some kind of power in the first place, something that made him crave more.”

“Maybe it has something to do with how he took over,” Henry suggested, “Price took over _fast_. He managed to go from a nobody to the mayor of Central City in just a few months.”

“And even as mayor, Price has been doing things that no mayor should have the power to do,” Joe said seriously, “It still boggles my mind to think about how much the government has let him get away with. How have they not stopped him already?! Even with so much of the country outraged by this whole thing, Price has managed to keep the senate in his pocket.”

“That’s it!” Wally said loudly, “That’s his power! He’s _controlling_ them!”

“Maybe,” Iris said slowly.

“That makes sense,” Oliver said seriously, “If Price’s abilities allow him to control people, it would explain how he rose to power so quickly, how he gets away with so much.”

“There’s just one problem with that, though,” Henry said, frowning, “If Price can control people, why hasn’t he controlled _us_? Everyone knows by now that you, the Star City mayor, support the Resistance. Why hasn’t he tried to control _you_?”

“Maybe because he couldn’t get to me,” Oliver said simply, “Like all of you guys, I’ve been in hiding.”

“But you met with Price,” Caitlin pointed out, “You’re the only one of us who’s met with him in person.”

Oliver frowned as he thought back to that meeting with Price. Price had seemed smug. Arrogant. He had shown no genuine interest in wanting Oliver’s support in his campaign, and his efforts to convince Oliver had been meager and contrived. He clearly didn’t _need_ the support. He already had the entire US Senate standing behind him. In fact, if he really did have the power to control people, then to become mayor at all seemed kind of pointless. Why bother with an election? Unless it was all just a ploy to distract them. And then Oliver suddenly remembered something else about his exchange with Price.

“He tried to shake my hand,” Oliver said slowly, looking around at them, “He offered his hand to me to shake, but I wouldn’t shake it.”

“Maybe he needs to touch the person to control them,” Felicity said thoughtfully, “That’s why he’s not simply mind controlling all of us.”

“And the number of people he can control at once has to be limited,” Caitlin said quickly, “It would force him to be selective about whom he controls.”

“So he only went after powerful government officials,” Oliver said seriously, “ _That’s_ why he ran for mayor. He didn’t need to be mayor to persecute metahumans—he was already doing that well before he won the election—but running for mayor put him in the company of all the powerful people he wanted to control. From there, he could work his way up through the senate to reach the highest officials in US government.”

“This is huge,” Joe said, “If we can find a way to dampen Price’s powers…”

“We’d have to know where he is first,” Oliver sighed, “I’ve been searching everywhere for him, interrogating people, but nobody knows where he’s hiding.”

“So, what do we do?” Felicity asked, “We can’t just wait for Price to show up. People are dying.”

“Cisco will be back tomorrow,” Joe said seriously, “Hopefully he’s been able to find some of the others.”

“Yeah, but will they fight?” Oliver asked, “The other metahumans that Cisco’s tracking down all fled from this in the beginning of it all. They fled from the city to save themselves, not that I blame them. How are we going to convince them to come back here?”

“Just show them this,” Iris said, pointing at the computer, “This virus isn’t just to take out metahumans. Price is planning to kill a lot of people with this. If people won’t fight for the lives of the innocent metahumans in that camp, people will definitely fight for their own lives.”

“It’s ugly logic,” Joe sighed, “But she’s right. The people might be too afraid to fight for what’s right, but they’ll surely fight for their own lives once they know Price’s plans.”

Oliver nodded.

“You’re right,” he said, “We have to spread the word about the virus. It’ll scare people into finally taking action.”

“We’ll have ten times as many people to rise up against the MRA,” Joe said darkly, “Price won’t stand a chance. If thousands of people storm the wall at once, the MRA will collapse.”

“I just hope Barry can hold on until then,” Iris sighed, “He just has to last a little longer.”

“How was Barry when you saw him?” Joe asked, turning to Singh, “Was he doing okay?”

Singh froze. Everyone in the room was staring at him. He didn’t know what to say.

“Barry, he…” he whispered slowly.

Their eyes all widened as they watched Singh struggle to find words.

“He _is_ okay, right?” Iris asked fearfully.

Singh looked painfully back at all of them. He shouldn’t tell them. It would crush them, and they couldn’t afford that right now. They had to focus on what needed to be done. They couldn’t afford emotional distractions. But this was _Barry_ they were talking about. His friends and family deserved to know.

“He’s in the lab,” Singh whispered, tears welling in his eyes, “He’s in the experimentation lab. He’s probably already been injected with the virus.”

“No,” Iris whispered.

Joe simply stared at him in shock, along with the rest of them. Henry was looking at the floor, his eyes far away as he processed Singh’s words.

“I’m so sorry,” Singh choked, tears welling in his eyes, “I wanted to help him. I wanted to do everything I could to stop it, but I couldn’t. Barry told me not to. I…I escorted him to the lab myself.”

“No,” Joe said, shaking his head stubbornly, “No, that…no.”

“Joe…” Singh whispered.

Joe took in a shuttering breath, and a few tears rolled down his face.

“He c-can’t be…” he stuttered, “Barry, he… _It might not be too late!_ ”

Singh gave Joe a somber look, his stomach churning horribly.

“It was almost three hours ago now,” he said softly, “I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so sorry.”

Joe struggled just to get a breath in as he hunched over, bracing a hand on the end table to keep himself upright. Caitlin rested a hand on his back, tears already streaming down her face. Joe suddenly looked up at Singh, his eyes glaring at him with purest loathing.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED HIM!” he roared suddenly, shoving Singh in the chest, “YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU LED HIM TO HIS DEATH!”

“I couldn’t do anything,” Singh sobbed, the tears now escaping his eyes, “Barry told me not to do anything.”

“Because he’s a _hero_!” Joe shouted furiously, tears streaming down his face, “Of course, that’s what Barry would say! He’s the _Flash_! He thinks he always has to be a hero!”

Singh’s eyes widened upon hearing this. Barry Allen was the Flash. He was given only a few seconds to process this information. _Barry Allen_ was the Flash.

“Dad,” Iris sobbed.

“No!” Joe shouted at his daughter, “He should have done more! He should have done everything he could! He sacrificed Barry like a lamb to the slaughter! Like he was garbage! Like he meant _nothing_!”

“Joe,” Singh choked, his voice cracking, “I’ve known Barry for years. I _care_ about him. This is the hardest decision I’ll ever make in my life.”

“It wasn’t your decision to make _at all_!” Joe shouted in his face, “Barry isn’t your kid, David! It wasn’t your decision to make! Sacrificing someone else’s _child_!”

“Joe,” Oliver said softly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the other man, “Barry made this decision, too. He knew the mission was more important.”

“Nothing is more important to me in all this than Barry’s _life_!” Joe sobbed, “ _Nothing_!”

Joe sank to his knees, his legs no longer able to support him.

“Dad,” Iris sobbed, kneeling down next to him, tears streaming down her own face.

Henry stayed in the corner, not looking at any of them. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t doing _anything._ He was just in shock.

“We should have done more,” Joe choked, “We’ve had _months_ to do something, and we haven’t.”

“We didn’t have the numbers on our side,” Oliver said softly, “But now we will. We’re going to end this, Joe.”

“But it’ll be too late for Barry,” Joe whispered, “He’s going to die. We won’t get to…to say goodbye. He’ll die before we get to him.”

“He’s not dying for nothing,” Oliver said firmly, “He’s a hero, Joe.”

“I don’t _want_ him to be a hero,” Joe sobbed, “I just want Barry. I want him back. He _promised_ us. He promised he would do whatever he had to do to stay alive.”

“Joe,” Caitlin said softly.

Joe let out a sob and shook his head.

“He’s going to die alone,” he choked, “Barry’s going to die in pain and alone.”

Singh knelt down then, in front of Joe. His watery eyes looked right into Joe’s.

“Barry is the bravest man I know,” he said, heartfully meaning every word, “He was calm when he walked into that building today. He kept his head held high and didn’t let any of his fear show. He faced his death with more honor and bravery than I ever thought any man capable of. You would have been so proud, Joe.”

Singh then sucked in a shaky breath, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything,” he choked, “If I had, I would have been caught and killed, and Barry still would have been brought to the lab. He didn’t want that. He wanted me to take the jump drive and get it back here. He wanted to save everyone else.”

Joe let out a pitiful sob, and Oliver put a hand on his shoulder.

“Whether you want him to be or not, Barry was a hero,” Oliver said softly, “He was the Flash.”

* * *

**[1]     The Marburg virus is a real virus, but the details of it I give in this chapter are inaccurate. It’s very ugly, though, and it’s not something you ever want to Google Image search.**

* * *


	34. An Inch

**Warning: Human Experimentation**

**Disclaimer: Quote from _V for Vendetta_**

**As I said in an earlier chapter, there are other similarities between this story and the movie/comics, _V for Vendetta_**

* * *

**An Inch**

* * *

"This one shows a lot of promise," one of the doctors observed, "He's holding up to the virus very well."

"Yeah, but he's not immune," one of the others pointed out, "He probably won't last the night, just like all the others. We should go grab a new batch of subjects."

Barry could close his eyes all he wanted, but he couldn't stop himself from hearing the doctors talking to each other. He couldn't block out the sharp sting of a needle or the rough hands that handled his body as if it couldn't feel. He felt the straps on his arms and legs being undone, and Barry soon felt those same rough hands grabbing him off the cold, metal table.

His eyes were bleary and almost completely unseeing as they dragged him down the hallway. He tried to get to his feet, so he could walk, but his body was aching and weak from the fever. Instead, his feet dragged uselessly on the floor behind him. His face quickly made impact with the concrete when the guards released him. He heard the sharp creaking of a door being closed, and he was submerged in the darkness again.

Barry curled into himself in the dark. The thin clothes he had weren't enough to keep the chill from coursing through his body. He felt like he was on fire with the fever raging through him, but at the same time, the chills that ran through him left him shivering. Barry wiped the blood from his face with shaky hands. It was coming from everywhere. His nose, mouth, ears, and eyes. All his blood vessels were leaking blood, like he knew they would. He had heard of the Marburg virus before, had even _studied_ it in college. He never thought he would die from it, though.

His body ached terribly, and it only grew worse when he started to cough. The taste of blood in his mouth was familiar to him. It was constant. The metallic taste made his thirst intensify. There was no water. Even the small toilet in the dark, concrete cell didn't have water.

It was fine, though. He wasn't going to be here much longer anyways. He could tell he didn't have much time left now. His lungs were heavy, and his heart was now fluttering like a hummingbird's wings in his chest. His heart would give out soon. Or his bleeding lungs. He was coughing up more blood by the hour.

He was dying.

His only regret was that he wouldn't get to say goodbye to any of his loved ones. He wouldn't get to be surrounded by love and beauty when he took his final breath. Instead, he would die alone in the dark.

Barry wasn't afraid anymore, though. He would face his death without fear. The MRA could do anything they wanted to him now.

They could destroy him. They could beat him, starve him, and experiment on him. They could kill him. They could do whatever they wanted to his body. They could even torture him to the point of unraveling his mind. They could take everything from him. His freedom, his body, his sanity.

But there was one thing they could never take from him, one thing that would always be his, a part of him they could never break. He would never lose that last shred of defiance in him, that last spark of light that lived deep inside. He would let them do what they wanted to his body, but Barry would never give up the one thing they were trying so hard to bleed out of him, and that was his capacity to love. His love for his family, for his fellow prisoners, for the people he had come to love amongst all this ugliness…for Lucy. His love would never waiver.

He would die here. Barry knew that now. His body would die. Every inch of him would belong to them. Every inch would perish here—every last inch.

All but one.

A single inch. It was small, and it was fragile, but it was his, and he wouldn't ever let it be taken from him. He would never let them win. He would never give his entire self over to them. He would hold onto that last inch of faith and light to his dying breath, and it would remain in him long after his heart stopped beating, long after he was thrown into one of those mass graves with the rest of the dead. This last inch, this last spark of light, was his and his alone.

It could never be taken from him.

* * *

_ Price Virus Rumors Cause Mass Panic _

_ Government Assures Public Virus Rumors are Fabricated _

_ Blue Valley Region Overrun by Lucy Resistance in Search of Price _

_ Viral Strains Found at Water Plants in Six Counties! _

_ Drinking Water Still being Tested; Virus has been Contained _

_ CDC Cautions Ohio Residents Against Consuming City Water _

_ Hostile Mobs Flood Coast City _

"It's happening," Oliver said seriously to everyone, "Thousands of people are flocking to Blue Valley and Coast City, calling for Price's head. The wall is on lockdown now, under siege by the crowds."

"So let's bomb the fucking thing," Joe said angrily, "Bring it to the ground and overrun the bastards."

Although his voice was radiating with anger, it was also laced with grief. It was the morning of the third day since Barry had gone to the lab. Barry was dead by now. Even Cisco couldn't get a vibe on him. Everyone was trying hard not to think about it.

"That's exactly what we're going to do," Oliver assured him, "We just need the right time."

" _Now_ is the time!" Iris insisted desperately, "This is happening _now_! What the hell are we waiting for?!"

"Price," Oliver said darkly, "We need to attack _Price_ , not the MRA. If we take the MRA out without getting Price at the same time, there's a good chance Price will flee. He'll get away. He's the head of the snake. He's still controlling the government right now. We take him out, and he loses that control. We take just the MRA out, and our victory will be only temporary. The government will hunt down every metahuman we free until they find and kill them all. We'll accomplish nothing if we don't manage to get Price."

"It wouldn't be for nothing," Cisco insisted, "We'd be reuniting families."

"But the metahumans would still be hunted down afterwards," Oliver repeated impatiently, "All we would be accomplishing is killing a lot of people for nothing. It would be a lot of blood shed just to destroy a wall. If we don't get Price, we don't win."

"So we're supposed to just _sit_ here?!" Caitlin asked in frustration, "We're supposed to just sit here until we can figure out where Price is?"

Oliver looked regretfully at her.

"That's exactly what we have to do."

* * *

The cold darkness pressed in on him from all sides. Barry could hardly open his eyes anymore. It didn't matter. There was nothing to see in the dark cell anyways. He couldn't move. He didn't even have the energy to cough anymore, and he could practically _feel_ the fluid accumulating in his lungs. They were filling with blood. It would suffocate him soon. He was literally going to drown in his own blood.

Barry couldn't hear or feel his heartbeat anymore. Yesterday, his pulse had been pounding loudly in his ears, but now there was nothing. His heart was simply fluttering weakly in his chest.

Barry kept his eyes closed, trying to let the darkness finally overtake him. He just wanted to slip away, to let it all end. It wasn't that simple, though. As much as he wanted to let go, his heart just kept on beating stubbornly in his chest. He couldn't just make it stop with sheer force of will. Barry would have to wait.

He had tried holding his breath, but that hadn't worked either. Every time he started to lose consciousness, his body would reflexively suck in a breath of air, and he would start breathing again. It frustrated him. He just wanted it to be over. He didn't want to lay here, alone in the dark, anymore. He was standing right on the edge between life and death, and he was just waiting for a strong wind to finally push him over the line.

As Barry laid there, waiting impatiently for his heart to finally stop, a dull creaking sound broke through his veil of unconsciousness. A soft murmur of voices reached his ears, and it took him a few minutes to hear what they were saying.

"…I mean, I don't know why Price is so pissed at _us_. It's not _our_ fault we haven't found the antidote yet. If anything, it's _his_. He's the one who insisted the metas were the key."

"How do you think he's going to react when we finally run out of metas to test?" another man answered.

"I don't know. That's not my problem, though. I'm not a scientist. I just manage the trucks."

The other man sighed.

"We should get this one loaded up quickly," he said, "I'm going to take my break soon."

Barry instantly became overwhelmed with panic. He was going to be loaded into a truck. He wasn't dead yet, but he was going to be thrown into the pit. His heart filled with sorrow at the idea. He didn't want to die there. He didn't want to die in the pit. He didn't want to die _at all_ , but he certainly didn't want to do it there. Why couldn't they just give him another hour? Just let him die here, in his strangely peaceful, dark space. It was cold and dark and lonely, but it was a million times better than dying in a pit of corpses. It was better than being grabbed and thrown into the pit by a fellow metahuman while he was still alive.

Barry soon felt hands on him, removing his clothes. He tried to beg, tried to make a sound to let them know he was still alive, but he couldn't, and soon, his clothes were completely removed and his ankles were being grabbed. He could feel every bump and crack on the hard, cold floor as his thin body was dragged across it.

"Does he feel warm to you?" one man asked suddenly.

"Must've just died," the other muttered dismissively.

"I think I can see him _breathing_!" the other man said in surprise.

Barry's ankles were suddenly released then, and he soon felt cold fingers being pressed to his neck.

"He's alive," the man said in shock, "Go tell the doctors right away! Tell them one of the subjects survived the night!"

Everything that happened after that was a blur to Barry. He felt himself being moved by rough hands, but at the same time, he felt like he was floating. He could feel himself slipping away, and soon a blinding light seemed to overtake him and flood his senses. He hoped it was heaven.

It wasn't.

When Barry finally managed to crack his eyes open, he realized he was back in the white lab with its harsh fluorescent lights. Doctors moved around him, all talking to each other and giving orders. Barry only heard a few words of what they were saying.

"…fluids in him…"

"…start a blood panel right…"

"…missed something…"

He felt the sharp prick of a needle in his arm and could feel hands all over his body. Barry didn't pay attention to what they were doing, though. He just laid there, waiting for the darkness to engulf his senses again. It didn't. Instead of slipping back into the darkness, Barry remained in the light. His senses started to grow clearer again from whatever medical measures the doctors were taking. For the first time in days, Barry could finally form coherent thoughts again.

They were saving him.

After everything they had done to him, the MRA doctors were _saving_ him. Upon realizing this, Barry felt both relief and despair flood his heart. He didn't know how to feel about it. He was going to live. After finally accepting his fate and being ready to die, Barry was going to live.

"Look at this," one doctor said to another, looking up from her microscope, "Look at his antibodies."

"He's AB negative?"

"It's super rare. Less than one percent of the population have this blood type."

"What does that have to do with the virus?"

"Being Rh negative means he doesn't have the same evolutionary 'primate gene' that most of the population does. The Marburg virus originated in monkeys, so maybe there's a connection." **[1]**

"But we tested a B negative subject yesterday, and she died," the scientist pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is the first _AB_ negative subject we've seen," one woman pointed out, "And his powers were regenerative healing. Maybe the combination…"

"We need to give the blood sample more time to incubate," a man said, "Once it's been separated from his body and the power-suppressing device long enough, the sample should take on the properties of his powers again."

"There's no need to incubate it," one woman said suddenly, "It's already synthesizing."

"It synthesized _that fast_?!"

"Look at his blood cells," she said seriously, "There's something more going on here than just cellular regeneration. The cells aren't just rebuilding themselves, they're…"

"They're… _charging_ themselves," the man said in shock, looking up from the microscope.

"Charging themselves with _what_?"

"I don't know, but the cellular processes are all happening at an accelerated rate," he said, "It's like they're…"

The scientist cut off midsentence, and his eyes grew wide as he looked at Barry, who could barely even keep his eyes open. He had them open enough, though, to see the look of realization spread across the doctor's face.

"Get Clinton Price on the phone _now_ ," he ordered urgently, "Tell him we found the antibodies we were looking for, and tell him…we found the Flash."

* * *

"We need to act _fast_ ," Oliver said urgently to everyone, grabbing his things to leave.

"What's happening?" Cisco asked, his eyes wide.

"Singh just sent a message," Oliver explained seriously as he rushed to grab his gear, "Price is heading to the zone via helicopter _right now_. He'll be touching down in ten minutes. Now's our chance."

"Is he _suicidal_?!" Joe asked incredulously, "Why would Price go to the zone with so many people surrounding it, waiting to kill him?!"

"I don't know," Oliver said, "Singh didn't know Price's reason for going there. He just knew Price was on his way."

"Are we sure, though?" Wally asked nervously, "What if it's just another one of his tricks? It could be just another hologram or false information. Are we sure about this?"

"No," Oliver said simply, "But this could be our only chance to take him out. We have to take it. Start getting the explosives ready."

That spurred them all into action. They all moved without hesitation then, getting ready for a fight they had long been anticipating.

The wall would be going down in less than an hour.

* * *

Why couldn't Barry have just died? He had felt conflicted about dying earlier, but now he without a doubt wished he had just died in that dark cell. Anything was better than this—than being the key to Price's victory. Once Price had an antidote, he would be able to unleash his virus. Thousands if not millions of people were going to die. Because of Barry.

Why couldn't he have just died from the virus like everyone else?

He hardly paid attention to the doctors as he laid on the table, reluctantly letting them take countless samples from him. He closed his eyes and tried to think of happier times, of being home safe with his family, of running through the city, the wind whipping past his face. Barry opened his eyes, though, when the door of the small lab suddenly opened. He could just make out the silhouette of tall man through his blurred vision. The figure moved through the doorway then, stepping closer to him. It wasn't until the man was a few feet away from him that Barry finally saw his face—a face he had seen on a television screen a million times, but never in person.

Clinton Price.

"Barry Allen," Price's deep voice said, as a small smile spread across his face, "Or should I say, the Flash? We finally meet."

* * *

**[1]     Barry really is AB negative. Or at least, there's a fifty percent chance that he is. In season one, the two blood samples found on the wall in Barry's old home were A+ and AB-. Sure, Barry could be A+, which is a super common blood type, but he has all the traits of an AB- person. Reddish brown hair. Hazel eyes. Fair skin. It's more likely that Barry's was the AB- sample.**

* * *


	35. Martyr

* * *

**Martyr**

* * *

As most of the doctors cleared out of the room, Barry glared murderously at the man in front of him—the man who had caused him and so many others so much pain. Barry hardly paid mind to the fact that he was lying naked on an experimentation table. All he could focus on was the man in front of him. He was lost for words. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he wanted to _do_ to him, but now he couldn't do or say anything. He just glared venomously, feeling all the hatred that had been brewing deep inside him now come bubbling up to the surface.

"You, _Barry Allen_ , have caused me quite a bit of trouble," Clinton Price said, shaking his head in amusement, "The martyr of the Lucy Resistance. And now the Flash. What a coincidence that you would now be the key to everything I'm trying to accomplish."

"I don't believe in coincidences, Price," Barry spat, his voice sounding stronger than he felt, "I don't think anything that's happened has been random."

"Neither do I," Price said calmly, "I believe in fate, Mr. Allen, and I believe you and I were destined to meet. I have to admit, though, you're not exactly what I was expecting the Flash to look like."

"I have _you_ to thank for that," Barry said venomously, "Sorry, I don't live up to your expectations. I'm not exactly in optimal health right now."

"No," Price said pleasantly, "No, I suppose you're not. No worries, though. Apparently, your body was still strong enough to survive the night and give my scientists what they need."

"So, what now?" Barry asked angrily, "You're going to kill me? Or are you going to control me? Use your _powers_ on me to get me to do whatever you want?"

For the first time, Price's smile faltered and then slid completely from his face. His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke.

"And what would someone like you know about my powers?" he asked curiously, not denying that he had any.

"I only suspected them," Barry said smugly, "I wondered what a man like yourself would want with power-concealment technology. It wasn't hard to connect the dots from there. I didn't know for sure until just now. You just confirmed it for me."

Price simply stared at him, a calculating look on his face. And then he suddenly burst out into laughter, taking Barry by surprise.

"You," he laughed, shaking his head, "You're the one who hacked the system. Of course, it was you. Barry fucking Allen."

Price didn't seem nervous. He didn't even seem shaken or surprised by this development. He was simply amused.

"Well, I must admit, I didn't see that one coming," he chuckled, as Barry glared up at him from the table, "Coincidence, indeed. You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Mr. Allen?"

"You have no idea," Barry gritted.

Price just continued shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, I must admit, you're little hacking scheme did cause a bit of trouble for me," he said, "I was never intending for the public to know that it was _me_ who unleashed the virus. It doesn't change anything, though. I'll still be able to continue with my plan, even if the circumstances aren't ideal."

"And what _is_ your plan?" Barry asked angrily, "I deserve to know as much before you use your powers on me and make me become a part of it against my will."

"Oh, I won't be using my powers on you, Mr. Allen," Price said simply, "Believe me. I would if I could, but my abilities don't quite work on other metas."

Barry's eyebrows furrowed as he took in these words.

"That's why you want us all dead," he said quietly, "Me and the other metahumans. Because you can't control us."

"Correct," Price said simply, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, "It's a shame I've had to massacre thousands of people, but it's for the greater good. It's nothing personal."

Barry glared murderously at him.

"This feels pretty fucking personal," Barry gritted, his restrained hands shaking in anger.

"But it's not," Price insisted calmly, "I don't hate metas. Truthfully, I'm rather indifferent towards them. They're simply an obstacle I've had to remove."

"So if this isn't about metahumans, then what the hell is this about?" Barry demanded lividly, "Why are you planning to release a virus that'll kill thousands more people if your plan isn't about _cleansing_ the city of metas?"

"My goal isn't to kill anyone," Price said, raising his eyebrows, "Sure, people will die in the process, but this isn't about _killing_ anyone."

"THEN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ABOUT?!" Barry shouted, his sore throat tearing, as tears filled his eyes.

"Control," Price answered calmly, "It's about control, Mr. Allen."

Barry shook his head as the tears escaped his eyes. He turned away from Price, unable to look at him.

"You're insane," Barry said quietly, "You're _sick_ and insane."

"I assure you, Mr. Allen, I am quite sane," Price said calmly, "I know exactly what I'm doing, and just because you don't understand the endgame of my plan, it doesn't make my methods senseless. Extreme, maybe. But not senseless."

"Why?" Barry choked, "I just need to know why. Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to us?"

"I already told you, Barry," Price said seriously, no longer smiling, " _Control_."

"Control of _what_?" Barry demanded angrily, "How does _killing_ people give you control?"

Price let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't expect you to understand," he said tiredly, "Most people don't understand the key to control."

"Try me," Barry gritted.

Price's eyes darkened then, all pretenses of pleasantry dropped.

"Chaos," he said seriously, "Chaos is the key to control, Barry. With chaos comes fear, and with fear comes desperation. If I unleash my virus, and it spreads throughout the rest of the country like I intend it to, it will lead to widespread panic. People will be looking for someone to guide them, someone to give them a cure and to restore order."

"And that person is you," Barry whispered, understanding now.

Price nodded.

"With the metahumans out of the way, no one will be able disrupt my plan," he continued, "Those left standing after the plague will be looking to someone like me to restore order. They'll be looking for security."

"Those who give up freedom for security deserve and shall get neither," Barry recited defiantly.

Price smiled at him.

"Benjamin Franklin," he said, shaking his head, "That's cute, Barry, but no one listens to our founding fathers anymore. Instead, they'll listen to me now. People will look to their government to take care of them, and by doing so, they'll give up their rights. Thanks to you, I'll now have the cure that they'll all give _anything_ for, including their freedom."

"I won't cooperate," Barry said angrily, "I…I'll _kill_ myself if it means preventing you from doing this."

"There's no need," Price said calmly, "My scientists assured me I already have all I need from you."

"Then why keep me alive?"

"Oh, I don't intend to keep you alive, Barry," Price said pleasantly, "I was simply curious. I wanted to talk to the man who's been haunting my TV screen for months. I thought you were just a martyr, just another victim that the Lucy Resistance was using as a mascot. I can see now that you're much more than that. It's a shame no one will ever know your story. It's quite a story, indeed. Unfortunately, in real life, heroes don't get the glory. In real life, heroes are simply martyrs, and you, Mr. Allen, will be only that. A martyr."

Price turned to leave then. He was almost to the door when Barry called out to him.

"You're wrong," he said.

Price turned and looked at him, an amused smile on his face.

"I'm more than just a martyr," Barry said firmly, "You can try to make me into one by killing me, but I'm more than just a martyr, Price. I inspire people—give them hope—and even after I'm dead and rotting in that damn pit of yours, I'll still haunt you, not as a ghost or an image on your TV screen, but with the people I'm leaving behind—the people I've inspired. They will be your downfall."

Price simply smiled at him.

"Take care, Barry," he said calmly before turning and leaving the room.

Price was still smiling as he made his way down the hallway to where his head scientist was standing.

"Make sure you have all your samples," he said emotionlessly, "Then have the firing squad take Mr. Allen and the rest of the subjects to the pit to be executed."

The scientist nodded and walked away. Before Price could continue down the hall, he was suddenly approached by one of his officers.

"Sir," the man said urgently, "The crowds outside the wall are becoming unmanageable."

"No worries," Price said calmly, "The wall is sixty feet high. I'll be out of here before they can ever get in."

"There are rumors of explosives, sir," the officer persisted, "They're going to bring the wall down. I suggest you get to your copter immediately."

"Of course," Price said calmly, "I'll leave now. Order all your men to remain stationed at the wall and prepare for a fight. Be sure to liquidate the rest of the metas once it's all over. We don't need them anymore."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Barry's feet stung as he stumbled barefoot through the snow, being pushed along by the guards. There were other metahumans with him, all of them naked, just like him. Most of them were delirious as they walked, weak and overcome by illness. Barry knew where they were going, and he knew it was pointless to run. There were too many of them.

When they paused on the edge of the pit, Barry knew that his time had finally come. He wondered where everyone else was. It was the middle of the day, but there were no metahumans working there. There were officers everywhere along the wall, but no prisoners. There was some kind of commotion going on on the other side of the wall. Barry could hear the shouting—the outrage. He smiled to himself. Singh had gotten the message out. The MRA was falling apart.

He just wished he could live to see it.

Barry looked to his right, to the woman who was crying and shaking as she stood next to him on the edge of the pit, the firing squad lining up behind them. Barry reached out and took her hand. She jumped and looked at him in confusion. Barry gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand, offering her any strength he could. He did the same for the man on his other side, and soon, he could see the whole line of them holding hands, all joining together to offer each other support in their final moment.

"Guns up!" an officer shouted.

Barry heard the clicking sounds of the guns being raised behind them. He didn't look back. He just squeezed the hands of the people standing next to him.

"Take aim!"

Barry closed his eyes, letting all the noise drown out until the world was silent. Peaceful. He let everything just drift a—

"Fire!"

He didn't even hear the shot. He almost didn't feel it as the bullet pierced his back. He hardly felt the pain as his back arched and his body lurched forward.

And then Barry was falling. And before the darkness pulled him under, Barry almost swore he heard a loud explosion going off in the distance.

* * *

Adam knew something was going on as soon as the officers had told them to stop working and led them back to their units. No one rested this time. They were all exhausted, but no one laid down. All the men stood, crowded in their unit, as they listened to the commotion outside. Guards rushed past the unit, all of them heading for different segments of the wall. Soon, there wasn't a guard in sight.

All of them had heard the riots going on outside the wall for the last couple days, but this was different. Something was happening. Adam hoped it was the Resistance. He hoped the Resistance was finally coming for them. He didn't know what to do. He had to _do_ something, right?! He couldn't just sit here. He had to _help_. He couldn't continue to just keep his head down and look out for himself anymore. He couldn't rely on others to save him. He had to _act_.

Barry had taught him that.

"What are you doing?" one of the other men asked him when Adam rushed over the corner of the barracks to pull the floorboards loose.

" _Something_ ," Adam said seriously, as he pulled out the gun, "I'm doing _something_."

He didn't say anything else before rushing out of the unit. No one called after him as he left. They just stared at him in shock.

Adam didn't see a single guard as he rushed through the camp, gun drawn and ready to fire. He had taken the safety off, just like Barry had shown him. He didn't know what he was doing, but if the Resistance really was here, then one hell of a fight was about to break lose. Adam wasn't going to bury his head in the sand. He was going to fight.

Like Barry would have.

Adam didn't know where to go, so he decided to head in the direction of the main building, right next to building four—the building they had killed his only friend in. Just when the dreaded building was coming into sight, Adam could hear multiple gunshots going off at once in the distance, along the west side of the camp—where the pit was. A second later, the ground shook as a deafening explosion went off. Adam turned and looked just in time to see the south wall of the camp start to crumble, the whole thing tumbling down in a cloud of dust and debris.

* * *

It took them nearly an hour to get all the way to Coast City, and it took quite a bit of time to set up the bombs and clear the crowds so they could detonate them. By the time they were ready for the bombs to go off, they feared they would be too late. They didn't know how long Price was going to be there, and they had only a small window of time to take Price down. It was their one chance.

"Alright, guys," Oliver said seriously to everyone within hearing distance, "When the wall goes down, we need to get past their defenses fast. Our first priority has to be taking down Price."

With everyone in agreement, they all took cover, as Cisco got ready to detonate the bomb he had built.

"VIVA LA RESISTANCE!" Cisco shouted before hitting the button.

Just before the bomb went off, Joe could have sworn he heard shots being fired on the other side of the wall. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling suddenly struck him, a feeling that left his chest feeling hollow, a feeling he had felt only once before, when Iris's appendix burst.

A feeling only a father can get for his child.

He was forced to push the feeling aside, though, when there was an earsplitting boom, and the wall started to crumble.

* * *

After the wall came down, Adam could hear multiple gunshots going off from that side of the camp. Adam was just about to head towards them to join in the fight when something caught his eye. A man was exiting building four, escorted by two guards. He was quickly heading for a helicopter that was stationed a few yards away from the building. Adam recognized the man immediately.

Clinton Price.

Adam saw red. The man responsible for all of this, for killing so many people—Lucy…Felix... _Barry_ —the man _he_ had voted for was suddenly only a few yards away from him. Adam quickly changed directions and headed towards Price. He wasn't going to let the man get away. Adam knew the other two guards would shoot him once he killed Price—knew that he wouldn't have enough time to shoot all three of them before they shot him—but he didn't care. He was going to end this.

He was going to die a hero, like Barry.

Once he was within shooting range, Adam charged at Price, pulling the trigger multiple times. Adam wasn't exactly an expert marksman, but he saw the exact moment when one of his bullets made contact. Price gasped in shock and fell to the ground in a heap. Adam quickly pointed his gun at one of the guards then, but it was too late. One of them already had his sights trained on him, about to pull the trigger.

BANG!

The officer suddenly fell to the ground, a bullet through his head. Adam looked at the second guard in confusion as the man was lowering his gun.

And then Adam recognized him.

"Good shot, kid," Singh said, looking down at Price, who was gasping and clutching his leg.

"I was aiming for his head," Adam said coldly, walking up to Price to point the gun in his face.

Price looked up at him with wide eyes filled with fear.

"This is for Barry Allen," Adam said furiously.

"Don't," Singh said suddenly, putting a hand on the gun in Adam's trembling hands to lower it, "Don't kill him."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Adam screamed at him, "After all he's _done_?!"

"He deserves so much worse than a bullet through his skull," Singh said darkly, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

He bent down to close the pair of power-dampening cuffs around Price's wrists. Price burst out into laughter then.

"Friend of Barry Allen's, huh?" he asked in amusement, "Funny you should mention him."

* * *

They didn't wait for the dust to settle. They didn't even wait for the debris to stop falling before they charged into the zone. And when they did, they met gunfire. The MRA had been waiting for them on the other side.

The MRA open fired on them the moment they breached the wall. Several Resistance members and civilians fell amongst the gunfire. That didn't stop the Resistance, though. Four officers were immediately sent flying back by a blast shot by Cisco. Eight more were disarmed by Peekaboo as she rapidly teleported herself amongst the soldiers. Cisco was instantly grateful he had managed to recruit Shawna. She was able to take officers out without killing them. Others, however, were clearly not pulling their punches. Kyle Nimbus swept through the officers like it was nothing, causing dozens of them to drop like flies as he poisoned them.

Hartley Rathaway's tactics were similar. He could have just blasted the guards without killing them, like Cisco had, but he wasn't. The sonic blasts he was shooting from his gauntlets were aiming to kill or severely injure. No one seemed to mind, though. This wasn't just some silly Flash fight. This was war. They had expected bloodshed.

Even Oliver didn't seem to be holding back. Not all of his arrows were shot to kill, but he without a doubt, took his fair share of lives as they fought through the MRA's first line of defense. The soldiers seemed endless, though. As they got through the first lines, other soldiers, who had been stationed along different parts of the wall, quickly moved in to replace them. It seemed like the fight was never going to end.

They had the numbers on their side, though. Thousands of people flooded in through the wall's breech and were quickly overrunning the MRA. The fight was already nearly over. As the others continued to fight, Joe and Oliver broke through the lines, one target in mind. They had to get to Price before he could escape.

The camp was large, but Singh had told them where Price would be, and that's exactly where they headed. They made their way to building four quickly, hoping they wouldn't get there to see a helicopter taking off. That wasn't the case, though. When they arrived at the site, it was to find that Price had already been apprehended. He was sitting on the ground, a pair of power-dampening handcuffs around his wrists. He sat with a smug grin on his face as Singh applied a tourniquet to his leg so he wouldn't bleed out from his gunshot wound.

"You're too late," Price said smugly as they approached.

"I'd say we arrived just on time," Joe said flatly, lowering his gun as they approached the scene, "We got you, Price."

Joe tried to ignore the building they were standing next to. Building four. The laboratory where Barry had taken his final breaths. Now that it was over, that Price was apprehended and the battle was all but won, he couldn't help but think of Barry. He couldn't let his grief get the best of him now. They needed to secure the area, to bring the remaining MRA members into custody and get the surviving metahumans the medical attention they needed. Once that was done, Joe could focus on finding Barry's…

"Joe," Singh said sadly, "They…they just executed him."

Joe stared at him.

"W-what?" he asked quietly.

"Your pseudo-son was alive this morning," Price said smugly from the ground, "If you had gotten here just a few minutes sooner, you could have been reunited with him. He was killed by firing squad right before the wall went down."

"No," Joe whispered, feeling like his legs were going to collapse from under him.

"Poor Barry Allen," Price said, a smile spreading across his face, "Ever the martyr."

* * *


	36. The Black Tag

 

* * *

**The Black Tag**

* * *

Joe could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, the blood draining from his face as he processed what he had just heard. Barry was dead. He had been executed only moments ago. If they had just gotten here sooner, Barry would still be alive. Joe's eyes bore into the man in front of him, the man who had murdered his son.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Joe roared, lunging forward.

The next thing he knew, he was on top of Price, his fists ramming mercilessly into the other man's face, as tears rolled down his own. Oliver and Singh immediately tried to pull Joe off the man, but Joe brushed them off like they weren't even there.

The kid, the metahuman who had been standing there, not saying a word, continued to just stand there. He made no move to pull Joe off Price. In fact, he looked like he wanted to join in.

It took them a few moments, but Oliver and Singh eventually managed to pull Joe off the other man.

"No," Joe sobbed, clutching Oliver's arm as the other man tried to calm him down.

Singh approached Price and put two fingers to the man's neck, verifying he was still alive. His face was bloodied, and he was now unconscious, but he was alive. Joe watched with tears streaming down his face, horrible sobs escaping his throat.

"Shh," Oliver soothed, rubbing Joe's arm, "It's going to be okay."

Nothing about this was okay, though. Barry was dead. They could have saved him, but now...¦

"It might not be too late," Joe choked, pushing himself up from the ground, "We have to find him! It might not be too late!"

Singh and Oliver exchanged sad looks with each other.

"Go," Oliver said to the two of them then, "I'll take care of Price. You two go find the...find Barry."

Singh nodded sadly, knowing full well what Oliver had been about to say.

"Come on, Joe," Singh said softly, "I know where to go."

Joe didn't need telling twice. The two of them left in a hurry, leaving Oliver and the young man behind to deal with Price. They walked through the snow at a fast pace, making their way to the west side of the camp. As they made their way through the zone, it became apparent that the battle was now over. People were rushing through the camp from all directions, trying to reconnect with their loved ones. EMTs, paramedics, doctors, and just about every type of medical professional were rushing throughout the camp, treating and transporting the injured. Joe hardly paid them a moment's thought. He had only one goal in mind:

Finding Barry.

Joe faltered slightly when they finally reached the pit, momentarily shocked by the morbid sight of hundreds of naked bodies stacked on top of each other. It was so much worse seeing it in person. No amount of vibes could have prepared him for it. He shook it off quickly, though, and soon, Joe was in the pit, frantically searching for Barry amongst the frozen corpses.

"Hold on, Bar," Joe choked, sifting through the endless bodies, "Hold on. I'm going to find you."

Singh joined him, looking through the pit with a somber expression on his face. His expectations were much more realistic. Joe was looking for his son. Singh was looking for a body. All the bodies looked the same, and it was hard to keep in mind that each one had been a person. They looked at the face of each body, knowing that that would be the only part of Barry they would recognize.

Singh almost missed him. He only just caught the side of Barry's face as he was searching. Once he did, he felt his heart sink.

"Joe," he said softly, "He's here."

Joe rushed over frantically as Singh tried to maneuver Barry amongst the pile of twisted limbs. As soon as Barry was turned over, Joe let out a heart wrenching sob.

"No, Barry, no," Joe wailed, clutching his son, "Oh, God."

Barry was dead. His eyes were open, blank and staring. His body was covered in blood and grime. His gaunt face, wasted limbs, and emaciated physique left him looking like a skeleton, like a corpse that had been here much longer than thirty minutes. He matched all the others in the pit. Barry had a bullet wound through his left chest, the bullet having gone straight through him. What was the most disturbing, however, were his eyes. They were blank and empty.

Lifeless.

He matched all the others in the pit--naked, thin, and broken. To anyone else, Barry was simply another corpse amongst hundreds of casualties. To Joe, he was so much more. He was _Barry_.

"Barry," Joe sobbed, pulling the upper half of Barry's body up to hold him in his arms, rocking back and forth, "This can't be happening. N-not after everything. Please, God."

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and clutched Barry desperately in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Singh choked, hardly able to look at Barry Allen's body, "I'm so sorry, Joe."

Joe didn't say anything. He sucked in a shuddering breath and then tightened his hold on Barry before standing up, Barry's limp, naked body in his arms.

"What are you doing, Joe?" Singh asked sadly, but Joe didn't answer.

Singh moved with him as Joe carried Barry out of the pit. He couldn't blame Joe. If Barry were _his_ son, he would want to get him out of that disgusting pit, too. It made him sick to his stomach to think Barry had died there. He had died, laying in a pit of corpses.

Joe didn't stop walking, though, once they were out of the pit. He moved with urgency, taking Barry as far away from the pit as possible.

"Help!" Joe called out to an EMT who was rushing past, "I need help here!"

The young EMT rushed over to him, medical bag in hand. His expression changed, though, when he looked down at Barry as Joe laid him on the snow-covered ground.

"Sir," the kid said in a strained voice.

"Help him," Joe said seriously, "It's not too late."

"Sir, he's...”"

" _Help him_ ," Joe said, his eyes boring into the young EMT.

The kid let out a heavy sigh before stooping down next to Barry. Singh wanted to say something, but he knew it was better to let Joe do this. Joe wasn't in any place to listen to reason.

The EMT checked for a pulse and tested Barry's trapezius reflex response. After only a few seconds, the kid let out a small sigh and brushed his fingers over Barry's eyes, closing them. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a large tag.

"Don't you dare!" Joe nearly shouted, snapping out to grip the kid's arm, preventing him from applying it to Barry's wrist, "Don't you _dare_ black tag him!"

"Sir, he's pulseless nonbreathing," the EMT said sadly, "Normally I would perform CPR, but we're doing triage right now. We're only treating the people who have the best chan--"

"You listen to me," Joe said lividly, tears streaming down his face, "This is _Barry Allen_. He's the reason _any_ of these people are alive. He's the _Flash_. He's saved more lives than you ever will in your entire career. Now save him, dammit!"

The kid ogled at Joe for only a moment before nodding frantically, his eyes wide. Without any further protest, he quickly pulled out another tag--red instead of black.

This tag didn't read MORGUE.

Instead, it said IMMEDIATE.

* * *

Iris knew her dad was going to kill her. She had promised to wait, to not go rushing into the zone before the dust had settled. The violence was over now, though. The fighting had stopped, and she didn't sense any immediate danger in the area.

Just chaos.

EMT's, paramedics, police, and first responders were scrambling through the post-battle carnage, treating the injured, both civilians and MRA. Some metahumans were also getting treatment, but most of them had received green tags reading WALKING WOUNDED.

Some injured, particularly those with red tags, were being transported immediately. Others, most with yellow tags, were being treated on scene. Most Resistance members were helping the wounded now. Shawna's ability to teleport people was a tremendous help, allowing her to easily transport people through the carnage and debris that would have normally inhibited the paramedics.

Iris hardly paid them any mind, though. She stood in the center of the chaos with Wally, looking frantically for her father. She needed to know he was okay, that he hadn't been injured or killed in the fight.

She couldn't lose another family member to the MRA.

"Do you see him anywhere?" Wally asked frantically, looking throughout the crowds.

People were scrambling not only to treat the wounded, but also to search for their loved ones. Iris felt a twisting in her stomach as she watched people reunite with each other, hugging and crying as they found each other.

She would never get that with Barry.

"Oliver said over the coms that they already had Price in custody," Iris said, "Dad's probably looking for..."

Wally nodded sadly at her. Without another word, the two of them started making their way to the west side of the camp--where the body pit was. Iris's heart pounded painfully in her chest as they made their way through the zone. She didn't want to see Barry. She couldn't. She didn't think she could handle seeing his body right now. She wasn't ready to face her grief. She had been suppressing it, allowing all the action over the past couple days distract her from it. Iris could feel it crushing down on her now, and she longed for the numbness again--for some sense of purpose to distract her from the loss she was suffering.

Henry seemed to have similar feelings. Instead of searching for his son's remains, he was currently helping the emergency responders with the wounded, as were the rest of the Team Flash. Iris felt guilty for not helping them, herself, but she was more concerned with finding her father right now. He wasn't picking up his phone for some reason, and Iris wouldn't be able to think about anything else until she knew he was okay.

Iris let out a breath of relief when her father finally came into view. He wasn't searching for Barry's body, like she had been expecting. Instead, he was helping the paramedics transport one of the wounded out of the zone, supporting one half of a gurney, while Singh supported the other. Two EMTs, were scrambling alongside them, treating their patient and giving him compressions while he was being transported.

"Dad," Iris cried in relief, tears streaming down her face, "Thank God!"

Her dad didn't even seem to hear her, though. He had tears streaming down his face as he looked down at the man on the gurney. Iris looked at him, too, as they passed her and Wally like they weren't even there. She knew instantly that the man was a metahuman. For one thing, the man was naked, covered from the waist down by a wool blanket. He was thin in the extreme. Really, he looked like a skeleton, like he was already dead.

And then Iris saw his face.

Wally had to grab her arm to keep her from collapsing.

* * *

The hospitals were in a state of pandemonium. FEMA and the DOT had emergency responders transporting patients to at least eight different hospitals in the Coast City Area. After Barry had been loaded into an ambulance--his heart still stagnant--the Wests had wasted no time getting into Joe's squad car to follow. Traffic was horrendous, but they managed to surpass most of it thanks to their squad lights. If they hadn't been able to follow Barry's ambulance, they would have had no way of knowing which hospital he was transported to.

At least they knew they were in the right place.

The waiting room at the hospital was packed with people, most of them standing in the crowded space, waiting to hear news of their loved ones. As far as they could tell, no one had been given any information.

They were no different.

They didn't know if Barry was alive or dead. They didn't know if the paramedics had managed to restart his heart or not. His heart had been still when he was loaded into the ambulance, but they were still hopeful he would pull through. After everything, Barry couldn't die now. He couldn't.

"Where are the others?" Iris asked shakily as her dad hung up his phone.

Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face as he tucked his phone away.

"Oliver, Felicity, Singh, and Cisco are dealing with Price," he said tiredly, "He's in police custody now and under heavy surveillance in the metahuman wing at Iron Heights. No one seems to know yet what's going to happen to him. There will most likely be some sort of trial, but no plans have been made yet. The government's a mess right now. Everyone who was under the influence of Price's powers has snapped out of it, but it's hard to determine who was being controlled and who was acting of their own free will. We're hoping MRA records will reveal more information."

"A lot of people are going to get away with it," Iris said quietly.

Joe nodded sadly.

"Probably," he whispered.

"What about the others?" Wally asked after a moment, changing the subject, "Are they on their way here?"

"Caitlin and Henry are still helping out the medical staff at other hospitals," Joe told him, "I let them know Barry was here, though, and they're both going to get here as soon as possible."

The three of them all turned their heads then when a nurse suddenly called out to the large mass of people filling the waiting room.

"Listen, everyone!" she called seriously, and the room suddenly went dead quiet, "We're overflowed with patients right now, and our staff is doing everything in our power to treat everyone that comes in. Unfortunately, we haven't yet found a way to organize our patient information amongst all the chaos and John Does coming in. I know you all are waiting to hear information about your loved ones, and we're doing our best to keep families updated. Unfortunately, the most information we can give you now is the names of the deceased."

She pinned a single sheet of paper up on the bulletin board of the waiting room.

"We realize this is incredibly insensitive," she said sadly, "But we weren't equipped for this kind of mass-casualty emergency. This list will be updated every hour until we devise a better way to notify families of their loved ones' status."

With that, the nurse walked away, leaving everyone in the waiting room to scramble to see the list she had posted. The waiting room was already packed to the brim with people, a lot of them even spilling out into the street. It didn't leave much room for them when everyone began pushing and shoving each other to get to the list. Wally and Iris stayed back while Joe worked his way through the crowd, desperate to see the list, himself.

Some of the names on the list weren't even names. Most of the patients who were metahumans simply had their ID number listed. Joe frantically scanned over the list, searching for "Bartholomew Allen" or "Metahuman 0226."

"Was he on the list?" Iris asked nervously as he fought his way back over to them.

"No," Joe sighed in relief, "He wasn't."

"That's a good sign," Wally grinned.

"It is," Joe nodded, "But there have been so many casualties, there's a good chance the morgue is filled with unidentified John Does."

"But Barry has a barcode," Iris insisted, "He'd be easy to identify."

"You're right," Joe said, letting out a shaky breath, "He would be easy to identify. From what Caitlin and Henry told me, though, the hospitals are so overrun, they're doing surgeries in the _hallways_. Many patients are being transported to other hospitals."

"So, you're saying Barry might not even be here?" Wally asked seriously.

"Barry _isn't_ here," a voice said from behind them.

They turned to see Felicity walking toward them, a tablet in hand.

"Barry was transferred to Keystone East Memorial Hospital over an hour ago," she told them.

"How do you know?" Joe asked urgently.

Felicity held up her tablet then.

"This just appeared in the news."

They all looked at the headline of the article displayed on the screen.

**Thousands Flood Streets of Keystone in Silent Vigil for Barry Allen, The Hero of the Metacide**  

* * *

 


	37. To Forget

**Important: This will be the final chapter of the story. I don't like to draw out conclusions because I find them forced and tedious. However, so much needs to be addressed after everything that's happened up to this point, which is why** **_I intend to write a separate epilogue for this story._ ** **It's all too much to cram into one final chapter, so I will be writing a short, multichapter conclusion to this story in the near future. See the author's note at the end of this chapter for more details.**

**There's a lot of medicine in this chapter. I tried to keep it to a minimum, but it's also kind of important, and I like to make things as realistic as possible.**

**Warning: This chapter isn't exactly happy. I don't think I need to tell you that a story like this isn't going to end with rainbows and butterflies.**

* * *

**To Forget**

* * *

**Government Still in Disarray Post-Central City Metacide**

**Eleven More Senate Members Taken in for Questioning Yesterday**

**Clinton Price Trial Date Still Yet to be Determined**

**Over Two-Thousand Metahuman Deaths Now Confirmed**

**Twelve Microchips Removed Successfully With the Help of MRA Doctors**

**Flash Identity Revealed as None Other Than Barry Allen: The Face of the Lucy Resistance**

**Family of Barry Allen Still Unavailable for Comment**

**Vigil Outside Keystone Memorial Continues for Recovering Hero**

"They're all still out there."

Joe glanced up from his newspaper to look at Iris, who was standing at the window of the small hospital room, looking down at the crowd in the street below.

"I heard people are coming from all over the country," Henry said, not bothering to look out the window.

Most of them didn't look anymore. It made them feel like they were being watched. They were going through one of the most emotional ordeals a family could ever go through, and they had the whole country watching them. They tried to ignore all the reporters and tried not to resent the people who were just there to support them. After all, the more people praying for Barry, the better.

Instead of looking out the window, Joe looked at Barry--as hard as that was. Barry almost looked like he did when he was in a coma: hospital gown, closed eyes, a tube down his throat. At the same time, though, this looked _nothing_ like the coma. Barry was a skeleton. His hair was shaved short. His face was nearly unrecognizable. A full week in the hospital, and Barry still looked like death.

It wasn't like the coma.

Still, they had to be grateful. It was a miracle Barry's heart was even beating. It was a miracle they had managed to restart it. From his work as a cop, Joe knew it wasn't like the movies. He knew that when people went into cardiac arrest, the chances of restarting their heart successfully were slim, and they were next to zero when the victim's heart had been stopped for more than ten minutes. Barry had been in the pit for at least a half hour. There was a good chance his heart didn't stop right away, though. As much as the thought of Barry laying in a pit of bodies, slowly dying, broke their hearts, the fact that his heart didn't stop right away may have been the reason they were able to save him.

Still, though, Joe knew the statistics. Even after being revived, the survival rate for out-of-hospital cardiac arrest victims was only eleven percent. The dark truth was that most of them ended up dying anyways within twenty-four hours of being revived. Barry had thankfully passed this twenty-four-hour mark, but even after a week in the hospital, spontaneous cardiac arrest was still a strong possibility. The doctors were doing everything they could to prevent that, though.

"Why do you have to do that again?" Iris asked the doctor.

Caitlin was currently wrapping cooling blankets around Barry's torso.

"We have to lower his body temperature," she sighed, "It's therapeutic hypothermia. It should help preserve his cells and stop them from self-destructing."

"Why would they _self-destruct_?" Wally asked incredulously.

"It's pretty common," Henry said quietly from his seat in the corner of the room, "Barry's heart was stopped for a long time. It took them nearly an hour to revive him. The only reason they were able to was because his...body was out in the cold. It prevented his cells from breaking down. There have been a lot of cases where young, healthy people have fallen through ice and were revived hours later. The cold prevents their cells from breaking down from the lack of oxygen. Once they get warm again, though..."

"Keeping him cold will prevent toxins from building up in his cells," Caitlin continued, "As the cells are reintroduced to oxygen, they need to be continuously kept at a lower body temperature."

"But can his body handle that?" Iris asked worriedly, "He's so thin now. He's recovering from starvation, a gunshot wound, frostbite, and a _deadly_ virus. He's not even _breathing_ on his own. Won't the cold slow his recovery?"

Caitlin and Henry both nodded solemnly.

"It's about finding the right balance," Caitlin said sadly, "He needs this therapy, but too much of it will kill him. We're monitoring him closely to make sure that doesn't happen."

Joe didn't understand the science of it all. He didn't know complex medicine, yet he listened to everything the doctors said, trying to understand what he could. What he knew from it was that Barry was far from out of the woods. It was a medical miracle that he was even still alive after everything his body had been through. His heart was the main concern right now, considering he had already had heart damage from the chip in his neck.

Caitlin had explained it to them. After the lightning, Barry's heart became accustomed to beating at a much faster rate. The microchip blocked the speed force in Barry's system, but his physiology didn't change. His heart continued to strain itself, but it didn't have the support of the speed force to maintain its high baseline rate. That, combined with starvation, caused the chamber walls of Barry's heart to thin over time. Long-story-short, Barry now had the heart of a geriatric--a heart that could stop beating at any moment.

"Why can't we just take the damn chip out of his neck already?" Cisco asked impatiently, "The doctors know how to do it now, so let's just get it out of him. Then he can heal faster."

Caitlin and Henry both reluctantly shook their heads.

"He's not strong enough," Henry whispered, "He wouldn't survive the surgery."

"And if he did, his body wouldn't be able to adjust to the return of his powers so quickly," Caitlin sighed, "It would be too much for him."

"Why is the chip even still active?" Joe gritted, "The MRA has been shut down. Why are the chips still repressing their powers?"

"Because Barry crashed their network," Cisco sighed, "His hacking scheme won us the war, but it also backfired. They haven't been able to get into the system to turn the chips off yet."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Iris said bitterly, "They could turn the chips off if they really wanted to."

"You're right," Henry agreed darkly, "They probably could."

"Then why aren't they?" Wally demanded.

"Because they don't want the metahumans acting out," Joe muttered, "They don't want them to retaliate or to do anything extreme."

"That's why they're screening them," Caitlin sighed, "Metahumans have to go through a lot of therapy and psychological evaluation before they can be approved for the surgery. That's why only twelve of them have had them removed. They have to be physically healthy enough for the procedure and psychologically stable enough for their powers to be returned to them. So far, only type two metahumans have been approved for the surgery."

"The government is just trying to keep the peace," Henry added, "How they're doing it is so wrong, but it's to keep a second fight from breaking out--to stop any acts of retaliation."

"They're trying to prevent a metapocalypse outbreak," Iris whispered, understanding.

"Once Barry is stable enough, we'll apply for the chip removal surgery for him," Caitlin assured them, "Right now, though, we're just trying to keep him alive. His organs are failing, but as we reintroduce nutrients to his body, his health should improve."

Barry had been getting tube feedings for the last week, but the amounts they were giving him were miniscule. If they gave him too much, they would be risking refeeding syndrome--a condition that primarily affected the victim's _heart_. It was just another reason why Barry wasn't ready to have his powers returned to him. His metabolism would ramp up, and he would require more calories to function--calories his body couldn't handle right now.

"I just wish he would wake up," Iris sniffed, staring at Barry's gaunt face, "I just want to hear his voice. I want to talk to him."

They all nodded in agreement. They hadn't spoken to Barry in _five months_. They had seen him through Cisco's vibes, watched him suffer alone while they were unable to comfort him. All they wanted now was to hold him and tell him how proud of him they were--to tell him that everything was going to be okay now and they weren't going to let anyone hurt him ever again.

They didn't know if they were ever going to get the chance, though. Even if Barry survived, they had been told there was a strong possibility he would never wake up. Even then, Barry might end up having significant brain damage after being flatlined for so long. There were a lot of "ifs" and the odds weren't in their favor.

Still, though, Barry had been through too much, survived too much, for him to not be fine. He had to pull through. Any other scenario was unfathomable to them.

Another full week passed, and Barry seemed to grow slightly more stable each day. He didn't seem to be gaining any weight, but his color returned to him. During that week, the media grew more restless. Joe nearly assaulted one reporter who managed to slide past security and sneak into Barry's hospital room to get a picture. The man was escorted out of the hospital by security before Joe was able to smash his camera into a thousand pieces.

And so, the picture got out, and headlines continued to explode.

Will the Flash Survive his Second Coma?

Many people knew all about Barry's first coma by now. How they all found out Barry was the Flash was unclear. It could have gotten out in any number of ways. The MRA's medical files. The EMTs Joe had told in his moment of desperation to save Barry. It wasn't exactly surprising to anyone. The rumors that Barry Allen was the Flash had been circulating the city ever since the Lucy Resistance was founded. It just hadn't been confirmed yet.

It seemed the whole country knew Barry's life story now. They knew all about his family tragedy. They knew about his first coma and correctly connected the dots that the lightning had given him his powers. They knew about him owning STAR Labs and using the facility as a headquarters for his heroism. They knew a great deal of what had happened to Barry while under the MRA's reign, thanks to the Resistance videos, but other details were slowly leaked over the course of those two weeks. As MRA officials were questioned, more information about Barry was brought to light. People knew about his hacking scheme by now. They knew about the lab and his immunity to the Marburg virus.

The Wests had even been contacted by researchers looking to study Barry's antibodies. Naturally, they refused to let the doctors anywhere near Barry. In fact, the only public statement they had made to the press was to say that if people continued to try to sneak into Barry's hospital room, they would press harassment charges. It didn't stop people from trying to get into the hospital, though.

Some of them were press. Others were researchers. Most of them, however, were admirers--people who only wanted to sneak in to see their hero and offer support. Despite their good intentions, Barry's friends and family just wanted to be left alone. Even the hospital staff seemed to come by the room a little more often than necessary. Caitlin and Henry requested to do most of Barry cares and treatments on their own, though.

Caitlin was always good about balancing being a doctor with being a close friend. Henry, on the other hand, struggled with it more, except it wasn't in the way they were all expecting. Henry was more of a _doctor_ to Barry now than he was a father. He was clinical about everything, very rarely showing much emotion as he cared for his son. Although it seemed strange, they all understood it. Henry was protecting himself. Barry's odds weren't good, and he was trying hard not to get his hopes up.

Henry was just focused on trying to save him. He wasn't letting his emotions cloud his medical judgement. He treated Barry like a normal patient, spending more time looking at Barry's chart or his heart monitor than he did at Barry himself. There were moments, though, when Henry would look at Barry--when he had no _choice_ but to look at his son, when they were doing a tube feeding or turning him in bed.

Henry was bombarded by a confusing storm of emotions every time he looked at Barry's face and was reminded of his reality. This skeleton, this corpse-like patient he had been caring for for two weeks was _Barry_. This emaciated, broken human lying in bed was his son--his son, whom he had failed to protect. Every time Henry was suddenly struck by this reality, it was like a slap to the face. And every time, he would push those emotions down. He would look away from Barry. Check his CBCs or his O2 levels. Anything but look at his broken son.

That was made a lot harder when Barry woke up.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. Henry was changing the bandages on Barry's frostbitten fingers when one of the fingers suddenly twitched. It initially startled him, but Henry wasn't alarmed. It wasn't the first time Barry's fingers had reflexively twitched under his touch.

But then the entire hand moved.

Henry jumped back in shock. His eyes darted to Barry's face, his heart clenching like it always did when he looked at his son's gaunt features. And then he saw Barry's eyes. They were cracked open, just the smallest bit.

"Joe," Henry whispered.

Joe jerked awake in the chair he was sitting in on the other side of the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently, rushing towards the bed.

They were the only two in the room. Iris had gone home to get a change of clothes, Cisco and Caitlin had decided to go on a coffee run, seeing as they were all sick of hospital coffee, and Wally was currently giving blood--something they all had done to help contribute to the hospital shortages.

Henry didn't answer him. He continued to stare at Barry's eyes, watching them flutter ever so slightly. They weren't fully open, but Joe and Henry could both tell.

"He's awake," Joe gasped in shock.

Joe's hand slid into Barry's bandaged one, squeezing it gently.

"Barry?" he choked, placing his other hand on Barry's chest, "Barry, can you hear me?"

And then Barry gagged. A soft choking nose suddenly sounded from his throat as his eyes shot open, wide in panic.

"He's fighting intubation," Henry said urgently, rushing for a syringe.

He quickly grabbed one and attached it to the combitube in Barry's throat, sucking the air out of it to deflate the internal balloon that kept the tube in place. Henry didn't hesitate to then rapidly pull the tube from Barry's throat. A small amount of vomit came with it.

Henry nearly cried in relief. Barry had a gag response again. His eyes were open--bright hazel irises staring back at him.

Barry coughed and gagged several times once the tube was removed, his eyes watering. There was no more vomit, though, considering it had been hours since Barry's last tube feeding. Henry grabbed a towel and started to wipe his son's mouth for him. He pulled his hand back almost instantly, though, when a thin, shaky arm reached up to stop him. Barry was too weak to push him away, but Henry and Joe both got the message.

They both took a step back to give Barry space.

"Barry?" Henry whispered.

Barry sucked in several large breaths, his watery eyes completely unfocused as he strained to breathe on his own. Henry desperately wished the other doctor was here right now. In a single instant, he had switched from doctor mode to father mode. As soon as Barry's eyes were open, Henry was no longer a doctor. He was a dad.

A million medical urgencies were flooding his mind at once. He should check Barry's airway. His lung sounds. His heart. He should do a neuro check and make sure his eyes are reacting to light. He should be monitoring Barry's blood pressure, checking for brain damage, for nerve damage, full CMS. He should be doing _something_.

But all Henry could do was stare.

"Barry," Joe said softly, gently laying a hand on Barry's shoulder.

Barry flinched, causing Joe to retract his hand.

"Bar," he whispered, "It's me. It's Joe."

Joe leaned closer to Barry without touching him, making sure Barry could see him but not reaching out for him like he desperately wanted to. Barry stared back at him with watery eyes, and Joe and Henry could both see the moment when his eyes cleared, confusion being replaced by recognition.

"J-joe," Barry breathed.

The name came out of his mouth with hardly any sound, but Joe and Henry both sighed in relief at that one word. Barry could speak. He could _think_. He recognized them. It was an extremely good sign. It was a sign Barry didn't have brain damage--that he was himself.

"I'm here, Bar," Joe choked, "It's me. I'm here. You're okay. Everything's okay."

Barry was still gasping for breath, still trying to adjust to breathing on his own again. He didn't say anything, just looked back and forth between his two dads.

"You're in a hospital, Barry," Henry told him gently, his voice shaking, "You're in a hospital in Keystone."

Barry's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he took in this news. He sucked in several large breaths, the air sounding strained as it moved in and out of his lungs.

"P-price?" he gasped.

"He's taken care of, Barry," Joe assured him, "Don't worry about him. You're safe now. All the metahumans are safe. It's over now."

A few tears escaped Barry's eyes as he processed these words.

"It's o-over?" he whispered.

Joe and Henry both nodded, their own tears now brimming over.

"It's over," Henry choked, "It's all over, Slugger. No one's going to hurt you, _ever_ again."

The two men both stood next to the bed, waiting for Barry to say something after these words. He didn't say anything, though. He stared blankly at them, letting the words sink in.

And then Barry's face crumpled.

"Bar," Joe whispered.

Barry shook his head, his face screwing up as tears streamed down his face.

"It's over," he sobbed.

Joe and Henry both moved towards him at once, both reaching out for him. Joe backed off, though, allowing Henry to hug his son first. Henry wrapped his arms around Barry, carefully at first, waiting to see how the hug would be received. Barry didn't push him away now, though. He sank into the hug, clutching his father desperately with his bandaged hands as he sobbed into Henry's shoulder.

"Shh," Henry soothed, cradling Barry in his arms, "It's okay, Barry. Everything's okay."

Henry pulled back slightly to look at his son. He needed to see his face--to see his _open_ eyes starting back at him. Barry's eyes were the only part of his face that looked truly recognizable. Even his eyes, though, looked...different. Deeper.

Older.

As he looked into Barry's eyes, Henry couldn't help but wonder if, after everything, they were getting the same Barry back.

Joe moved to hug Barry next. As soon as his arms were wrapped around Barry, he finally felt content. He finally allowed himself to feel relieved for the first time in months. His stomach twisted for a moment when his mind flashed back to that day, when he had held Barry like this in a pit of bodies. This was so different, though. Instead of clutching Barry's thin, broken body, Joe was holding Barry--warm, alive, and awake--in his arms. Barry was hugging him back with what Joe assumed was all the strength he had. Barry's thin arms weren't very strong at the moment, but Joe knew Barry was straining himself, trying to keep him close.

So Joe didn't pull away. He stayed there and let Barry sob uncontrollably into his shoulder, burying his face in his neck. It had been a long time since Joe had seen Barry cry this way. It reminded him of all those late nights, when Barry was a child and had just woken up from a nightmare after his mother had died. Joe had held him the same way then as he was now.

"Oh my God," a voice came from the doorway.

Joe reluctantly pulled out of the hug to see his daughter standing there.

"Barry," Iris choked.

Faster than the Flash, Iris suddenly launched herself at Barry, flinging her arms around him. Barry winced slightly at the unexpected contact.

"Sorry," Iris cried, quickly pulling back, "I'm sorry! I know how sore you must be!"

Barry shook his head, tears streaming down his face as he gave her a watery smile before pulling her back in. A small laugh escaped his lips as they hugged, but it almost sounded more like a sob. Barry was taking deep, shaky breaths as he hugged her, looking like he never wanted to let go.

When they finally broke the hug, they both had tears streaming down their faces. _All_ of them did. It took Barry a moment to control his breathing and take it all in before he spoke. When he did, they were all surprised to see his face go from relieved to fearful in an instant.

"T-the others?" he choked, his voice cracking, "Did the others...?"

"The other metahumans were freed, Barry," Joe assured him, squeezing his hand, "They got out."

Barry shook his head, a few tears falling from his eyes.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, "Elizabeth W-waldeck. Katherine Metz. Adam Emmerich."

Barry's breathing became more strained as he listed off names, his breath hitching uncontrollably in his throat. Iris put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at her father.

"We don't know, Bar," Joe said softly, "Everything is still a little chaotic right now. Adam is alive. He's the one who helped us take down Price. The others, though..."

Joe looked at Iris and Henry with a strained expression on his face. He didn't even know who those people were. They must have meant a great deal to Barry, though, if the first thing he said upon waking up was to ask if they were alive. Joe and the other two exchanged tearful looks. Odds were, they were probably dead. Less than three-hundred metahumans had survived to the end, and over two-thousand deaths had now been confirmed. That's just what was _confirmed_ , though. They were still in the process of identifying the bodies. The metazone had originally contained over 5800 metahumans.

Roughly three percent of them had survived.

"You need to find out for me," Barry choked, "I n-need to know. Kathy and Elizabeth..."

"I'll check the registry, Barry," Joe said sadly, "I'll see if they're on the list of survivors."

Barry nodded tearfully and wiped his face.

"Who are they?" Iris whispered, gently rubbing Barry's shoulder to sooth him.

Barry shook his head. He opened and closed his mouth several times, at a loss for words.

"They're...my family," he finally whispered, "They're like family to me."

Barry sucked in a ragged breath as he wiped the tears from his face.

"They have t-to be alive," he choked, "They have to be."

"Shh," Iris soothed, pulling him closer to her, resting her chin on top of his head, "It's okay, Barry. Everything's going to be okay now."

She knew they were empty words. Iris didn't know what else to say to him, though. What do you say to someone who just spent four months in hell? Who had just watched countless friends die? She may have seen vibes of Barry, but she didn't know everything he went through. She had only seen glimpses of it.

She had no idea what else had happened to him.

"Barry!"

They all looked over at once as Cisco entered the room, a huge grin on his face.

"You're awake, man!" Cisco exclaimed happily, laughing as he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around the other man.

Barry managed a small smile as he hugged Cisco back. His face was unreadable, though. It was hard to tell what he was feeling because he was probably feeling everything at once. Barry looked so happy and so incredibly sad, all at the same time.

Caitlin stood in the doorway, staring at Barry in shock. She hadn't expected this. At least, not as a doctor. She was hopeful, of course, but a part of her hadn't been expecting Barry to wake up--at least, not this soon. She didn't know what to do. She was torn between being a doctor and a friend.

In the end, friendship trumped medicine. A small sob escaped Caitlin's lips as she crossed the room and pulled Barry into a hug, rather than pester him with assessments right away.

"Barry," she cried, "You're awake!"

Barry shakily hugged her back but didn't say anything. Caitlin glanced worriedly at Henry then.

"Is he...?" she choked, "Can he...?"

"I'm right here, Caitlin," Barry said softly, "I can speak."

Caitlin sighed in relief. Barry might still have had brain damage, but at least he could speak.

"How are you feeling?" she sniffled, "You must be in so much pain. I can give you a dose of Percocet if you need it, or I can--"

"Caitlin," Barry whispered, cutting her off, "I'm fine."

Everyone stared at Barry in disbelief. There was no way he wasn't in pain. His body had been through hell and back. He had been shot, frozen, and starved for five months. Everything about Barry screamed pain right now.

"I feel a hundred times better now than I did when I was..."

The words died in Barry's throat, and he shook his head, wiping a tear from his face.

"I'm warm," he said simply, a small half-laugh, half-sob escaping his lips, "I'm in a _bed_."

Barry looked down at the bed he was laying in then, a strange expression on his face. It was almost as if he couldn't believe it was there. They all watched him sadly, understanding what he was saying. Barry was in pain--on that, there was no doubt--but to him, this was the best he had felt in a long time.

"We should close the door," Joe said suddenly then, looking nervously at the open door to the hospital room.

"Why?" Iris asked in confusion.

Joe quickly rushed over and closed the door before answering her.

"I don't want the hospital staff to know he's awake yet," he fretted.

They all nodded in understanding then. It would cause an uproar. As soon as it got out that Barry Allen was awake, the media would go into a frenzy. They would have twice the amount of people trying to sneak in to see Barry. Except this time, it wouldn't be for a picture. It would be for an interview.

Barry wasn't ready for that.

"Why?" Barry asked in confusion, "Why shouldn't the hospital staff know I'm awake?"

They all looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. They shouldn't tell him yet. Barry had enough to process right now without them telling him that every person in the country knew his name--that he was famous. Barry couldn't handle that burden right now.

"I just really want to do your checkups myself, Barry," Caitlin answered slowly, "The doctors here...they're swamped with patients right now. I don't want someone rushing through your cares."

To their surprise, Barry looked down at his lap, a sullen look on his face.

"They all hate me, don't they?" he whispered.

Everyone's eyes widened in confusion.

"What?" Iris asked, "Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm a metahuman," Barry said softly, "That's how it was the last time I was in a hospital."

They all understood then. Barry was thinking of how things were when he had come to the hospital after being attacked by metahunters five months ago. The hospital had only assigned interns and students to care for metahumans. Barry had faced a lot of discrimination throughout his entire stay, and clearly the experience had stuck with him.

They didn't know how to explain it to him. How things were different now. How most of the medical staff _loved_ him and wanted to meet him. Of course, there were still plenty of people out there who disliked metahumans, but after everything that had happened, most people were compassionate towards them now.

"No, Barry," Joe answered him, "Things are...different now. The doctors here aren't neglecting metahumans anymore. We just want Caitlin and your dad to take care of you because the doctors are busy and don't have much time to give each patient the individual care they need."

Barry nodded slowly, looking down in thought.

"Thank you," he whispered, looking at each of them in turn, "You saved me. I...thank you."

Joe shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"We didn't save you, Barry," he choked, "You saved yourself."

Barry's eyebrows furrowed.

"No, I didn't," he said in confusion, "All I did was get myself shot."

They all looked at each other, not even knowing how to explain to Barry the enormity of all he had accomplished. He really didn't understand how much he had _done_?!

"Yes, you got shot," Joe said gently after a moment, "But we were only able to take down the MRA and save you because of what _you_ did."

Barry shook his head in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"The jump drive," Cisco said, "You hacked into the MRA. You found out who Price really was and what his plans were."

"And you managed to get the message out," Iris continued, "You warned everyone. It was the push people needed to finally take action against the MRA."

"You're a hero, Bar," Joe choked.

Barry looked down at his legs, his eyes filling with tears as he slowly shook his head.

"Barry?" Iris said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't look at her, though. He continued to stare down at the bed, his eyes far away. When he finally spoke, he asked the question they all had been dreading.

"How many survived?"

They all looked at each other, eyes filling with tears as they tried to figure out what to tell him. Caitlin decided on the truth.

"Three-hundred-sixty-four," she said softly, "That's what's been confirmed so far. It's been two weeks, so the number should be fairly accurate by now."

Barry's hand moved up to his mouth, tears escaping his eyes and trailing down his face as he sucked in a ragged breath.

"Th-three-hund..." he choked, sucking in another strained breath.

"I'm so sorry, Barry," Joe whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We tried to get to you sooner, but..."

Barry shook his head and a sob escaped his lips. They all silently watched him break down, none of them knowing what to say. There wasn't anything any of them _could_ say. Thousands of people were dead. That solemn fact was weighing heavily on _all_ of them, but for Barry...

It had to be so much worse.

They may have watched everything happen, but Barry had _lived_ through it. He had survived it.

"Barry," Caitlin said gently after a moment, "I can't even imagine how overwhelming this all must be for you right now, but...I really need to give you a checkup. I need to run some tests."

Barry sniffed and wiped his eyes before nodding.

"Okay," he whispered, his eyes far away.

It was as if he hadn't even heard her.

* * *

Who would have thought fighting to get past the crowds to enter a hospital would be just as hard as trying to get into the MRA? The sheer number of people crowded outside Keystone Memorial was staggering. They packed the streets for blocks, to the point where the streets had been completely closed to through-traffic and detours had been put in place.

It took Oliver and Felicity over an hour just to park and fight their way through the crowds. And then there was the obstacle of hospital security.

"We're here to see Barry Allen," Oliver told security personnel.

"You and everyone else in this city," the guard huffed, "You can wait outside with the others. Be sure to stay out of the ambulance loading area. This hospital still needs to function."

"I'm Oliver Queen," he persisted, "I'm on Barry's visitation list."

The head of security sighed and consulted his records, his eyebrows raising when he realized they were, in fact, on the visitation list.

"I'm going to need to two forms of identification," he told them gruffly, "For _both_ of you."

Oliver and Felicity both complied, taking note of how carefully the officer verified their IDs. People must have tried to use fake identification to get in to see Barry before. Although it was a nuisance, Oliver was pleased to see how seriously the hospital was taking its security. He and Felicity were even _searched_ before they were allowed access to Barry's floor.

"If we're on the list, why on earth would they suspect us of wanting to hurt Barry?" Felicity pointed out.

"They're just paranoid," Oliver sighed as they walked down the hallway, "And with good reason. Everyone knows he's the Flash now, after all. Barry's always enemies, but now they know who he is. And then there's always the meta-haters still around. There are a lot of people would want to hurt him."

Oliver and Felicity walked silently for the rest of the way down the hallway, until they reached the metahuman wing, where they had to go through even more security. Once they were permitted to enter, they approached the nurses station.

"We're here to see Barry Allen," Oliver said to the head nurse.

She gave him an uneasy look at these words.

"He's not taking visitors right now," she said nervously, "I suggest you come back when he's--"

"We know he's awake," Felicity cut across her, "His family contacted us and told us to come. We'll sign whatever confidentiality agreements you have, but we're _going_ to see him today."

The nurse opened and closed her mouth a couple times before nodding.

"Very well, then," she said before continuing in a hushed tone, "It's important that you keep Mr. Allen's status a secret for the time being. Not even all the hospital staff knows he's awake now. Only a select few. There will be a press release later this week, but we're just trying to keep things controlled until then. He's only been awake for a few hours and needs time to adjust before the media goes into a frenzy."

Oliver and Felicity both nodded their agreement. The nurse then handed them off to Barry's doctor, who filled them in as they walked to Barry's private, secured area of the metahuman wing.

"He's been resting on and off," Dr. Bryce told them as they approached the door, "His primary physicians, Dr. Snow and Dr. Allen, have been doing most of his cares. They didn't want hospital staff to know he's awake."

"How is he?" Felicity asked worriedly.

The Wests had been keeping them updated on Barry's medical status over the last couple weeks, but they hadn't heard much about how he was now--only that he was awake.

"He's in shock," Dr. Bryce sighed, "Still trying to process everything. He hasn't been speaking much since he woke up."

When they approached the door to Barry's room, however, that didn't seem to be the case.

"I don't care!" Barry was shouting when they entered the room.

"Barry," Joe said in a soothing voice, "Just hear them out."

"I don't care about their reasons!" Barry shouted, his weak voice cracking under the strain, "I don't care if it _kills_ me! I just want it out of me!"

Tears were rolling down Barry's face as he began to plead with them.

"Please," he sobbed, "Please, just do the surgery. Get it out of me! I can't stand to have it in me a second longer!"

"Barry, _please_ calm down," Caitlin urged, "Your heart--"

"I can't calm down until I get this thing out of my spine," Barry choked, "I _need_ it out. _Now_!"

"Son," Henry whispered, "Your body can't handle your powers right now. You--"

"This isn't about my _powers_ ," Barry gritted, "I don't _care_ about my powers. I don't care if I ever get them back. I just want this disgusting device out of me. I want to be free of it."

A small sob escaped Barry's lips as he looked down at the bed.

"I want to be free," he whispered brokenly.

Their hearts all clenched when they finally understood what Barry was saying. His powers didn't matter to him. He just wanted to put everything to do with the MRA behind him. He wanted to move on.

"You _are_ free, Bar," Joe assured him, "You're _free_."

Barry shook his head without looking at him, his bottom lip trembling. He didn't say anything, though. He just stared down at the sheets covering his legs. Oliver had never seen Barry like this. This defeated.

This broken.

Before, it had seemed like if they just took down Price, if they freed the metahumans, everything would be okay. Everything would go back to normal again. None of them accounted for this. The aftermath. Barry was free in the literal sense, but mentally, it would take time for him to fully be free of the MRA and what they had done to him. It would take a long time to heal, and it was something Barry would never fully forget.

He would carry the memories with him for the rest of his life.

"Barry," Oliver whispered, moving towards the bed to lay a hand on Barry's thin arm.

He didn't speak again until Barry looked up at him, watery hazel eyes peering into his own.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through right now," Oliver said softly, rubbing small circles into Barry's wrist with his thumb, "I know it all seems overwhelming at first, but...it _will_ get easier."

Barry didn't say anything. He just stared at Oliver, a faraway look in his eyes. Oliver recognized the look. He had seen it before--in the mirror. When he had returned home from the island, it wasn't as simple as just going back to normal. There was no going back to the life he had before. He had changed.

And the same thing had happened with Barry.

Barry couldn't just put it all behind him, the same way Oliver couldn't put the island behind him.

"I just want to forget," Barry whispered, "I want to get this chip out of me and forget any of this ever happened."

Oliver gave Barry a sympathetic look. Before he could say anything, though, the door to the room opened, Cisco walking in with a solemn look on his face. Oliver didn't think it was possible, but Barry tensed up even more when Cisco entered the room, though Oliver didn't understand why.

"Did you...?" Barry choked, looking at Cisco with watery eyes.

"I saw the list," Cisco said softly, hardly able to look Barry in the eye.

"And?" Barry pressed, leaning forward in bed.

Cisco paused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a couple times before speaking.

"They weren't on it," he whispered.

Barry stared at Cisco, processing his words. Oliver didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it was bad.

"What list?" Felicity asked before he could.

Oliver barely heard it when Joe leaned in and whispered to her.

"The list of survivors."

Oliver's stomach twisted as he understood then. Barry's unit, the others who had been living in that house with him.

They were dead.

Everyone's eyes turned to Barry then. He was just sitting there, his face blank as he tried to process the news he had just been given. No one said anything, and a few long moments stretched out between them before Barry broke the silence.

"But..." he choked, "It...it could j-just be a mistake. Just b-because they're not on the l-list, it d-doesn't mean..."

"I checked the list of confirmed deceased," Cisco said quietly, tears welling in his eyes, "I...I'm so sorry, Barry."

Barry shook his head, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

"No," he said numbly, "No, she can't...no."

His eyes narrowed then as he looked at Cisco.

"I want to see it," he gritted, "I want to see the list myself."

"Barry..." Iris whispered.

"I want to see it!" Barry yelled, hands balling into fists around the hems of his bedsheets, "Let me see the damn list!"

They all looked at each other for a moment before Cisco sighed and pulled out his phone.

"Here," he whispered, holding his phone out to Barry.

Barry took it with shaky hands, his eyes quickly scanning over the list of deceased. They all saw the exact moment when he came across the name he was looking for.

Barry didn't cry. He didn't do anything. He simply stared at the phone, a numb expression on his face.

"Bar..." Joe said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Barry didn't respond. He just stared at the list, his face expressionless.

"Barry..."

"Give me a moment," Barry whispered, the words hardly audible as they left his lips, "Just...give me a minute alone. Please."

They all looked at each other, not sure what to do. They didn't want to leave Barry alone. He had just found out two close friends of his had _died_. He shouldn't be alone right now.

"Barry," Caitlin choked.

He looked up at her, his eyes blank.

"Barry, I'm so sorry," she cried, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

Barry looked back down at the phone again, and this time, tears formed in his eyes, quickly spilling over and rolling silently down his face.

"Just give me a moment," he whispered.

They all hesitated for a moment before finally nodding and silently leaving the room, closing the door behind them. It felt so wrong, leaving Barry alone right now. He needed to be comforted. He needed to be surrounded by people he loved. It was hard to comfort him, though, when they had never even met the people he was grieving, when they could never fully understand what Barry was feeling.

"He was in love with her."

Everyone pulled out of their own thoughts to look at Caitlin, who had spoken.

"What?" Joe asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"One of the women," Caitlin whispered, "Elizabeth Waldeck. Barry was...he was in love with her."

They all stared at Caitlin, not knowing how to process what she was telling them.

"How do you know?" Iris asked softly after a moment.

Caitlin shook her head and wiped a few tears from her eyes.

"I saw him," she sighed, "During the medical exam. Barry wouldn't leave her side. He asked me to save her, _her specifically_. And when they were separated..."

Caitlin sniffed and wiped her eyes again.

"He said he loved her."

Everyone looked down at the floor, their stomachs twisting as they processed her words.

"He said they were family to him," Iris whispered.

She hadn't fully understood what Barry meant when he had said that. He had only known them for a few months, after all. It made sense now, though. They had all been through a terrible experience together. They had a unique connection that no one could ever fully understand.

"We should bring the kid here," Joe said after a long moment, "Adam. He's still alive. Maybe seeing him will help..."

They all nodded in understanding. Maybe seeing the only other survivor from Barry's unit would help him.

"He's out of the hospital now," Felicity told them, "He's recovering at home with his family. I could try to get a hold of him."

Everyone nodded. They all wanted to help Barry any way they could, but Barry needed more than just them right now. He needed someone who understood.

"I already tried to contact him earlier this week, though," Felicity sighed, "It's not going to be easy. The press has been pestering him for his part in taking down Price. His family isn't accepting any calls."

"Well, if anyone can get a hold of him, it's you," Oliver said confidently, "See if you can get him to come here."

"I'll try my best," Felicity sighed.

She and Oliver left soon after that. They didn't really want to leave, but Barry had enough to process at the moment. He was overwhelmed enough without having two more people hovering over him, trying to get through to him. Oliver knew better. They _couldn't_ get through to Barry right now, as much as they wanted to. Smothering him wasn't going to help.

Only time would.

* * *

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Joe fretted, "He's only been awake for three days. It's too soon for this."

"Honestly, I think we should have done this on the first day," Caitlin sighed, "Barry should have been talking to a professional right from the start."

"No," Joe shook his head, "You don't know Barry like I do. He's seen therapists before, and it never turned out well. He just doesn't respond to them."

"This is different," Henry countered, "This isn't about what happened to his mother. Barry needs to talk to somebody, and he's not talking to us, so it won't hurt to try."

They all lingered outside Barry's room, waiting on pins and needles. The hospital therapist had only been in there for ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. They had wondered if maybe one of them should have stayed in the room for Barry's first therapy session, but the psychiatrist had insisted on a one-on-one session. Barry had been reluctant about the entire thing as a whole. He had no interest in talking to anybody about what he had been through, let alone a stranger.

They didn't have to pay for the therapist. All physical and emotional therapy was covered by the Red Cross and the Metacide Relief Foundation. The entire country had been sending funds to the state of Ohio to support victims and their families in the aftermath of Price's reign. Barry wasn't very interested in utilizing the staff psychiatrists, though.

Less than fifteen minutes passed before the door to Barry's room opened, the therapist walking out with an exhausted look on his face. They all gave him worried looks as he softly closed the door behind him, joining them in the hallway.

The doctor shook his head.

"I didn't get him to say much," he sighed, "He kicked me out."

Everyone let out a heavy sigh at these words.

"Did he say _anything_?" Iris asked desperately.

"I'm not able to discuss much with you," the therapist said tiredly, "I'll stop in later and try again, but I don't recommend pushing him. I've met with a lot of victims, and everyone seems to be coping differently. Some talk to me; some don't. When he's healthy enough, group therapy might be beneficial for him. Talking with people who have been through similar experiences is sometimes more effective than these one-on-one sessions. Several metahuman support groups have already been formed over the last couple weeks. I highly recommend them."

He handed Joe a pamphlet listing all the available support groups for metahumans, before passing out several different pamphlets to all of them.

"These are for you," he said to them, "Just some literature for you to read. They might help you understand what he's going through, so you can help him cope. It's going to take a long time for him to recover--much longer mentally than physically--and he's going to need all the support he can get."

They all looked through the pamphlets he had handed them. Most of them were about grief support, PTSD, and survivor's guilt. The pamphlets were somewhat generic, but a few of them had been published for metacide victims specifically.

"Thank you," Cisco said softly after a moment, "Thank you for trying to help him."

The doctor nodded, a sad expression on his face.

"He's a hero," he said simply, "He's done so much for this city, helped so many people, and if he'll let me, I'm going to do everything in my power to help _him_."

With that, the psychiatrist walked away, leaving them standing there, deep in thought.

"I'm going to try to talk to him," Iris decided after a moment.

They all stared at her.

"We've been smothering him," she explained, "Overwhelming him. Maybe if just _one_ of us tries to talk to him instead of crowding him, he'll feel less singled out. He'll open up."

Her father nodded thoughtfully and ran a hand over his face.

"We'll go get some coffee," he sighed.

They all nodded their agreement.

"Good luck," Henry said to Iris as they reluctantly retreated down the hallway.

After they had disappeared around the corner, Iris turned back towards the door to Barry's room. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and opened the door.

She was instantly alarmed when she entered the room.

"Barry!" she shouted, rushing over to him.

Barry wasn't in his bed. He had disconnected his heart monitor and climbed out of bed, rolling his IV stand along with him.

"You shouldn't be out of bed!" she fretted, grabbing his arm.

Barry absently pulled his hand out her grasp, ignoring her. He wasn't even looking at her; he was looking out the window.

"What's going on?" he whispered.

Iris's stomach clenched when she looked out the window, at the crowds down below, brandishing "Long Live Barry Allen" signs and Flash insignias. This was exactly what they had been trying to prevent. They had even had the TV taken out of Barry's room so he wouldn't see the news. There was no lying to him about it now, though.

"Barry, you should lay down," Iris said in a small voice, "You shouldn't be on your feet."

"I was on my feet for fourteen hours a day when I was there," Barry said in a hard voice, "Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Iris flinched at the harshness of his words. She didn't know what to tell him. Barry was standing in his hospital gown, waiting for an answer with a hard look on his face.

"We didn't want you to find out this way," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, Barry."

"Sorry for _what_?" Barry demanded, looking back out the window in confusion.

"They know," Iris said quietly, "They know _everything_."

Barry stared at her, letting her words sink in.

"They know?" he whispered, "They know I'm...?"

"They know you're the Flash," she admitted, "They know everything you did for the Resistance...about the hacking and the virus...everything."

Barry sucked in a strained breath and leaned up against the window sill, a dazed look on his face.

"Barry," she choked, grabbing his arm to steady him.

"They know," he gasped, "They know everything."

"I'm so sorry, Barry," she choked, tears forming in her eyes, "I know this is a lot to process, but we're going to get through this."

"They know who I am," he breathed, "They know I'm the Flash...that I'm responsible for all of this."

"No, Barry," she said firmly, giving his thin wrist a small squeeze, "You're not responsible for _any_ of this. You're the one who _stopped_ it. You're a hero. They see you as a _hero_ , Barry."

Barry shook his head, and a small sob escaped his list.

"It's never going to end," he sobbed, "They know. My life...it'll never go back to normal. Things will never go back to normal."

Iris opened and closed her mouth a couple times, not knowing what to say. He was right. He would never get his life back--not the way it was before. He would always be in the spotlight now. He would never be just Barry Allen.

"Barry," Iris said after a moment, "You're _safe_. You're _alive_. We're all together now. _That's_ what's important. The rest of it doesn't matter."

Barry sucked in a deep breath and nodded quickly.

"Yeah," he gasped, "You're right. I know. It's just..."

"I know," she said sadly, "But it's all going to be okay. We'll get through this."

With that, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Barry didn't respond right away, but after a moment, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back.

She didn't know what else to do. Barry had lost so much because of Price, and now he had just lost one more thing. His life would never be the same again. There was nothing she could think to say to comfort him right now.

So she just stood there and hugged him.

* * *

Barry hardly heard what any of them were saying as he laid in bed, letting his father take his vitals. They were all discussing the best way to get him past the crowds waiting outside the hospital. There really was no way around it. Barry had been both looking forward to this day and also dreading it. After two weeks in the hospital, he was finally being discharged--and he couldn't be happier about that--but it meant he would have to face the crowds. There were going to be cameras and reporters. The public would be seeing him for the first time since he had been rescued.

He didn't really care what they thought about him. He didn't care what the media reported about him. He just wanted to go home. He didn't want to deal with any of this.

"Barry, did you hear me?" Felicity asked.

Barry snapped out of his daze and looked at her.

"What?"

"I said you shouldn't say anything to the reporters," Felicity repeated patiently, "We're just going to get to the car as fast as possible. Don't answer the media's questions. We're all going to surround you and shield you from the crowd, but it's going to be overwhelming. You just need to stay calm."

Barry nodded and looked away again.

"Right," he mumbled.

"Barry, are you sure you can handle this?" Caitlin asked worriedly, "Is it going to be too much for you?"

Barry shook his head.

"I'm fine," he sighed, "I just want to go home."

They all nodded but continued to give him worried looks.

"Maybe I should contact Singh and arrange for more security," Joe said thoughtfully, "He sent us five officers, but maybe more wouldn't be a bad idea."

Barry didn't even listen when Oliver replied to him. He tuned out again, glancing toward the window as their conversation continued. He hardly paid any attention as his father wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

He felt nervous.

He didn't even know why. It wasn't so much the crowds; it was _everything_. He was about to go home. He had been taken by the MRA over five months ago, and he was finally going home. He should be happy. He should be relieved. He _was_ happy, but he was also nervous. He wasn't the same man. He wasn't the same Barry Allen who had been taken five months ago. That's why he was scared.

What if going home didn't change anything?

For five months, all he could think about was going home. For five months, going home meant going back to normal. Home was safe. Home was the answer to everything. He knew now that going home wouldn't magically make everything okay again. It wouldn't be like hitting a reset button.

Too much had happened. Too many people had died.

Barry's stomach twisted slightly when he realized that everyone who had died, everyone he had lost, were people he had met in the zone. None of them were from his life before. His loved ones were all safe: Joe, Iris, Wally, his dad, Caitlin, Cisco. They were all safe.

But his other family...

Only two of the six of them had lived. He and Adam, they were the survivors. Barry had promised to himself that he was going to keep them all alive. It was an impossible promise. Barry knew that now. He knew that he had done everything he could. There was nothing more he could have done to save his family in the zone.

So why did he still feel so guilty? Why did he feel responsible?

Because he _was_. He had failed to stop this. He had lost the public's faith. He had allowed Price to rise to power. He had let them put those cuffs on him that day at the CCPD. He had fallen victim to the MRA like everyone else.

And yet, he had survived.

Why him? Why him of all people? Less than three percent had survived, and what were the odds that he was one of them?

It was the one promise he had kept.

He had promised his family he would stay alive for them, and he had kept that promise.

And now he felt guilty for it. He didn't know why he felt guilty. He was alive. He shouldn't be sad about that. He wasn't suicidal. He didn't _want_ to die, so why did he feel bad about the fact he was alive?

Because he shouldn't be.

He should be dead. He had been selected for the lab, yet he survived the virus. He had been executed and thrown into the pit, yet he had been revived. He shouldn't be alive right now, but he was. He was alive, and thousands of other people were dead. He had been lucky. He had survived by pure chance, and now people were calling him a hero...

"Barry?"

Barry looked up at Iris, his stomach churning.

"Barry, are you okay?" Caitlin asked, "You look like you're going to--"

Barry just managed to grab the bedside emesis basin in time to throw up.

"Are you alright?" his dad asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Barry nodded, his eyes watering as his stomach continued to churn.

"I'm okay," he assured them, "Just ate too much."

It wasn't the first time Barry had thrown up in the hospital. He was still having trouble with solid foods. It had only been a few days since they had weaned him off his liquid meals and reintroduced solid food. He had been throwing up at least once almost every day.

"Your stomach is still adjusting," Caitlin said, patting his arm, "It'll get better with time."

Barry nodded and wiped his mouth, allowing her to accept the excuse. It wasn't the first time he had used it. Barry knew full well that most of the time when he threw up, it was from psychological causes, not physical. They didn't need to know that, though.

"Maybe we should wait," Joe said worriedly, "If he's feeling sick, we should wait to brave the crowds."

" _No_ ," Barry insisted, "No, I don't want to wait. I feel fine. My stomach is empty now."

"So you should eat something," Caitlin said seriously, "You need your energy, Barry. I don't want you getting dizzy from lack of food."

"I'll be fine," Barry assured her, "Just let me go home."

"Barry, you really shouldn't go home on an empty stomach," she persisted, "Going without food isn't--"

"I'm used to it!" Barry snapped.

They all winched slightly at his harsh tone. Barry's stomach twisted more at seeing the hurt looks on their faces.

"I'm sorry," he said instantly, regretting his outburst, "I'm sorry, I just really want to go home."

They all nodded, sad expressions occupying their faces. Barry's hands clenched into fists. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the pitying looks they were always giving him, and it took everything he had not to snap at them again.

"Okay, Barry," Caitlin said gently, "I'm going to go fill out your discharge forms, okay?"

Barry nodded and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He wasn't trying to snap at them all the time. He was trying really hard not to be angry. It was hard, though.

Barry _was_ angry.

Not at his family. He held nothing but love and gratitude for them. He was angry at everyone else: Clinton Price, the MRA, the crowds standing outside, supporting him, when a few months ago they had been voting for the man who did all of this. A few months ago, they had been pointing at him on the subway, calling him dirty names because of the freak stamp on his wrist.

And now they loved him.

They had turned their back on him, on the Flash, on every metahuman in the zone. They had hated him. And now they were calling him a hero. Barry knew he shouldn't be angry with them. They were victims of a corrupt media and of sociopolitical manipulation conducted by a man who had the physical ability to control minds. Central City never stood a chance. The only person who could have stopped this was him, and he had failed.

Deep down, Barry knew they weren't the ones he was really mad at.

Barry hardly paid any attention as he was being disconnected from his IV and the machines. He didn't even allow himself to be upset by the way they all stared at his ribs while he was getting dressed. He did everything mechanically, allowing his mind to go blank. It was easier than thinking. Going numb was the only thing that helped.

Walking through the hospital only increased the fog building in his mind. He allowed the twisting white walls to dull his brain, grounded only by his dad's hand on his arm as they walked. Before he knew it, Barry was blinking against the bright light of the sun as they stepped outside. A tumult of noise assaulted his ears as they left the building and quickly found themselves surrounded by hundreds of people crushing in on them from all sides.

 _"_ _Mr. Allen! Mr. Allen! Do you have anything you want to say to the public?!"_

 _"_ _Barry! Barry Allen! Look this way!"_

 _"_ _You're our hero! We love you, Flash!"_

 _"_ _Flash! Hey, Flash! Do you have time for a quick interview?!"_

Cameras flashed from all directions, disorienting him. Barry vaguely registered Joe shouting back at the reporters.

"No comment! Out of the way! No comment!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Barry could see officers from the CCPD walking alongside him, pushing people back. He recognized most of them. They were his coworkers, after all. Singh had sent only the best officers there to keep the crowds at bay for Barry. Even with the officers there, though, people still managed to get close. Bodies pressed in on him from all sides, surrounding him--engulfing him. For a moment, just a moment, Barry was in that truck again, Lucy in his arms, Elizabeth's hand in his.

He wasn't in the truck, though. He just had to keep telling himself that. He wasn't in the truck. He was just trying to get to the carâ€”the car that would take him home. It was _Joe's_ hand in his, guiding him through the crowds, periodically looking at him to make sure he was doing okay. Barry could handle this, though. After everything he had been through, he could handle a crowd of reporters. He could handle anything.

 _"_ _Barry! What are your thoughts on the upcoming Price trial?!"_

 _"_ _Mr. Allen! Have you met with the Evans family yet?! Have you met Lucy's parents?!"_

 _"_ _Flash! Do you have your powers back?! Are you still going to protect Central City?! Flash!"_

Barry closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing as they walked through the crowds. When he reopened them, the world went silent. He could see everyone, surrounding him, shouting questions and shoving microphones in his face. He didn't hear anything, though. It was as if he had suddenly gone deaf, the world becoming soundless as he numbly allowed others to lead him through the sea of faceless bodies.

"Barry, are you okay?"

Barry blinked and looked around him. They were in the car. He didn't even register making it to the car. He didn't even notice when sound returned to him without the shouting and pestering of reporters. It was quiet now. The car was moving and someone had even put his seatbelt on for him. Barry hadn't noticed any of it.

"Barry," Joe said again, "Are you alright?"

Barry nodded and swallowed back the dryness in his throat.

"I'm fine," he whispered.

Joe's hand was still in his, giving it a small squeeze.

"We're going home now, Bar," he said softly.

Barry swallowed and looked out the window. They were nearing the edge of the city. Soon, they would be out of Keystone and on their way back to Central City, the city he had once loved so much. He wasn't sure how he felt about it now. The city was his home.

But it was also his prison.

The place he had been unable to leave because of the microchip in his neck. It was where he had been born. And it was where he had been afraid to walk down the street without running into metahunters. It was the city he had spent two years risking his life to protect.

And it was the city that had turned its back on him.

As they finally made it out of Keystone, Barry continued to look out the window, at the cornfields and rolling hills that stretched as far as he could see. The contrast with the city was dizzying. The openness of it made his heart clench with pure joy and overwhelming sorrow, all at the same time.

He was free.

He didn't know what was going to happen now. He didn't know what to expect when he returned to Central City--when he returned home--but it didn't matter. He was free.

Barry wanted more than anything to forget, to put this all behind him and pretend like it never even happened. He couldn't do that, though. To forget everything would be to forget the people he had lost. Forgetting would be like acting like they never existed, like their lives didn't matter. To forget would be to dishonor them. Barry and the other survivors couldn't forget because if they allowed themselves to, then the rest of the world would forget, would dismiss this ugly example of humanity like it never even happened.

Forgetting would be a gross crime--an insult to humanity as a whole. The world had spent enough time turning a blind eye to cruelty and malice. History had spent enough time trying to forget the uglier sides to humanity. This would no different. The metacide would be in history books for decades to follow, but would it be remembered? Would the victims be honored? Would people learn from it?

Or would they forget?

Barry didn't know what was going to happen. He didn't even know what would happen when he returned to the city. But he knew one thing.

He would never forget.

* * *

_Sonder_

* * *

**As promised from the start, a bittersweet ending.**

**I realize there is so much more to be addressed now that this story is over. Really, I didn't want to cram everything in one final chapter because then I would be rushing through it without giving everything the attention it needs. For that reason, I've decided to write a separate epilogue for this story. The epilogue will have multiple chapters and will pretty much be a story in itself.**

**I won't be posting it right away, but be sure to keep an eye open for it on my profile. I haven't been able to write much lately. Between school, my new job, and radio broadcasting I haven't had much time. We've been casting for a new show I'm working on, and filming for it starts next week, so I'll be even busier. I haven't even begun writing the epilogue yet and will probably want to focus on other stories for a while before I post the first chapter.**

**Thank you so much for reading this story to the end. I know I lost a lot of readers along the way--not that I blame them--but the support I've gotten for this story means the world to me. Prejudice has become more than a story to me, and I can't tell you how happy I was to share it with all of you.**

 

**Kayla Weyker**

 

* * *

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Precaution](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007334) by [sarahsharpe1231](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahsharpe1231/pseuds/sarahsharpe1231)




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